


Five Nights at Monokuma's

by RegenesisX (orphan_account)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Inspired by Five Nights at Freddy's, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/RegenesisX
Summary: They sang. They danced. They entertained children.The beautiful Junko Enoshima, the mysterious Izuru Kamukura, the eccentric Nagito Komaeda: the prized human animatronics of Monokuma's Pizza. They were incredible, far beyond mere machines. But where is that line drawn? At the body, or the mind?“Those little boys who came in today taught me a fun game. If you cut somebody’s head off, they die. Isn’t that fascinating? You look confused, Izuru. Has Nagito not told you about that? If you kill somebody, they die. And dying means you stop functioning forever! If you really hate somebody, you can kill them! Isn’t that interesting, Izuru?”





	1. Monokuma's Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all wondered what happened to SIDE:CONTINUE, it got pushed aside in favor of this. FNAF Sister Location came out and I got to entertaining a certain... idea... and that was that.

Makoto Naegi squeezed the brake handles on his bike, easing to a stop in front of the old pizzeria. Monokuma’s Pizza.

The place had been burned out and abandoned for years, but the city had yet to tear it down. The windows were boarded up and caution tape was still plastered across the door from the original investigation of the fire. It had always struck Makoto as curious why the owner had abandoned it. According to the news, the fire occurred in the middle of the night and no one was killed, there was only property damage. Makoto had only been a little kid at the time and never visited the pizzeria himself, but he recalled something about “state-of-the-art entertainment technology.” The only thing he could figure was that the damages had been so severe, the owner simply couldn’t recover financially. Still, it didn’t explain why the building had remained untouched for nearly a decade.

Of course, there were rumors that the place was haunted. His friend, Sayaka Maizono, was a bit of an expert on urban legends, and the ones that circled the old pizzeria were standard fare. Official reports stated that the fire was caused by faulty wiring, but it was rumored that a night security guard actually died in the fire—or the fire was started by the guard himself. Some people claimed that if you peered in the windows at night, you could see the guard’s ghost wandering the halls.

Not that Makoto believed any of that stuff.

It had been an accident, plain and simple. If a guard had really perished in the fire, a body would’ve been found. There was nothing strange about faulty wiring, and if the owner had sacrificed building upkeep for this _technology_ , disaster would’ve struck eventually.

He couldn’t help wondering, however, what exactly the technology _was_. Sayaka had told him that they were amazing, lifelike human animatronics who could sing and dance, but Makoto had a hard time believing that. If that sort of technology existed, wouldn’t it be better used somewhere else besides a rundown pizzeria?

He stared at the building a few moments longer before swinging off his bike and walking it over to the sidewalk. He stepped up to the window, peering in through a small crack between the boards. There wasn’t much to see inside. It was dark, dusty, and untouched. The ghost rumors made him wonder if anyone had ever broken into the place, but he couldn’t make out any signs of disruption in the lobby.

It was as if time had simply ground to a halt inside, and had not moved past the day before the fire.

 _Has it really sat here all these years, undisturbed?_ Makoto wondered. Rumors of a death would keep the general public away, but surely the place had to have been home to squatters at some point. Otherwise, where would the ghost stories come from?

Curiosity finally got the better of him and, checking to make sure the street was empty, he crept around the side of the building. The alley was eerily clean, as if no one even dared to pass through it. A padlock was on the gate of the fence that blocked in the back door, but Makoto scaled the chain-link easily. He scanned the empty pad of cement behind the building. There must’ve been a dumpster back there at some point.

The back door itself was partially boarded up, save for two planks leaning against the side of the building.

So, someone had broken in. Makoto reached into the space and gripped the doorknob, feeling it turn easily in his grasp. _I knew it wasn’t a ghost. Someone broke in here after the place shut down to use as a hideout._

He nudged the door open and peered inside. The hallway was dark, visibility quickly petering away within several yards. He could barely make out a restroom sign.

Sneaking inside was a terrible, terrible idea, but… He had his cell phone, didn’t he?

Crouching down, he slid through the gap between the rotting boards. The scuff of his shoes on the gritty tile was too loud in the empty hallway, sending a shiver down his spine. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and lit up the screen, shining it down the corridor. Men and women’s restrooms were to his left, while the wall on his right was covered in posters and papers. Stepping forward, he closed the door behind him. There wasn’t any point in leaving it open; his phone was brighter than the fading afternoon light.

He crept forward, angling his phone screen toward the wall. Countless children’s drawings had been taped up around the pizzeria posters. Most of the drawings were crudely done in crayon, but he could pick out commonalities in the art. There were bears—a lot of bears. A black bear, a white bear, a pink bear—although that one sometimes looked more like a rabbit—and bi-colored bear. One of them was probably supposed to be “Monokuma.” They were on the posters, too, but their presence was overwhelmed by the grinning girl in the center. She had bows in her voluptuous blonde pigtails and wore a short pink dress with a cupcake skirt. The name plastered at the bottom was “Junko Enoshima.”

Had she been an entertainer at the establishment? Even if she’d quit working there after the pizzeria burned down, she might still be living in the area. Did she know anything about what caused the fire?

Suddenly, Sayaka’s words floated back into his mind.

_“They had these incredible human robots who could sing and dance! They were so lifelike, people couldn’t even tell they were animatronics.”_

Makoto stared at the poster. It was clearly touched up, since it was a poster, but _Junko Enoshima_ looked real enough. There was no way she was an animatronic.

The hallway ended, opening up into a large dining hall. Or, what used to be a dining hall. The place was in ruins, the floor covered in soot and half-burned tables. The remnants of a large stage were at the back of the room, presumably where performances were held.

Makoto was hesitant to enter the room. His phone was bright, but there was something about poking around an abandoned building _alone_ that was putting him unreasonably on edge. Coming back another day with Sakaya was starting to sound like a good idea.

He shuffled slowly into the dining hall, furiously scanning every dark corner. Every time he looked somewhere else, the shadows in his peripheral vision seemed to churn. But there was nothing there. No one, no evidence of anyone—not a single soul.

Which, he noted, was odd. The boards had been torn away and the door was unlocked, and yet…

Perhaps it had just been someone curious, like him.

As he crossed the dining hall, flicking his phone light to and fro so he didn’t trip or anything or fall through the floor, something up on stage caught the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it was just track lighting that had fallen, but there was something too… delicate about it. As he inched closer, his heart dropped into his stomach and he froze in terror.

_An arm… a leg… a head…? Is that a_ _**body?** _

The hand holding his phone trembled, causing the light to bounce. It glinted off the side of the skull like—metal?

Steeling himself, Makoto approached the stage. It was indeed parts of a body strung up like a marionette. The torso was twisted at an odd angle, not lining up with the legs at all. The arms were spread, hanging limply. And the head was almost horizontal, as if it was being depicted to having had its neck snapped.

It was a woman, the short dress on its body burned and torn.

“...Junko… Enoshima…?”

His words were like a knife sliding through the stillness. It was her. It _had_ to be her.

_Who did this?_

The shaking light picked up the glint again, making him look a little harder at the body. It made him sick to do so, but something was definitely wrong. Her hair was gone, which made sense if she’d died before the fire, but if she’d died before the fire, she’d be nothing but a skeleton by now. And something was sticking out of her severed arms and legs…

_Wires?_

“N-No way…” he whispered. “It’s really… an animatronic? That’s… That’s impossible!”

But there she was. Robot Junko, torn apart, dangling above the stage.

“Why…?”

He couldn’t come up with a reason. But if the last person who’d come into the pizzeria saw _that_ , it made sense if they’d hightailed it out. That was beyond just being creepy.

Looking at it, it almost felt like… a sign. A sign for who, though, Makoto didn’t know.

Leaving now was definitely a good idea. The best idea, in fact. Even without the creepy marionette Junko, the place was going to give him nightmares. But sludgy curiosity still nagged at the back of his mind. He was already aware the _whats_ were terrifying, but if he never knew the _why_ , it would be even harder to sleep.

If he found nothing else, he could chalk the marionette up to vandals with a disturbing sense of humor.

Makoto reluctantly turned away from Junko and headed over to the first door off the side of the stage. The knob was difficult to turn—it looked like it had gotten coated with something like paint. Smears of it were on the doorframe as well. He managed to wrench the door open, but it only swung in a foot or so before hitting something. It didn’t budge any further no matter how hard he pushed on it, so he squeezed himself through the gap. From the small glimpse he’d caught of the room, it appeared to be costumes and spare parts—

There was someone standing behind the door.

Shrieking, Makoto dropped his phone. For a brief second, light flashed on the frizzy white hair, shredded clothes, and the partially torn-away face before the phone smacked into the ground and the room was plunged into blackness, save for a single, glowing yellow eye.

“Wh-Who…? Wh… Wh-What…”

It was no use. He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Fixing his eyes on the yellow dot above him, he crouched down and blindly groped for his phone. His fingers closed around the case and he jammed the on button, but nothing happened. The fall had broken it.

What was he supposed to _do?_

The glowing eye hadn’t moved. It was just another animatronic, right? It was damaged, just like the one on the stage. Well, maybe not _that_ damaged, but after a fire and a decade without maintenance, it was impossible for it to still be working.

 _They just… sing and dance, right?_ Makoto shakily got to his feet. The animatronic was so much taller than him. _It’s just a little creepy-looking. There’s no reason to be afraid of it._

He forced out a laugh to try and drown out the blood roaring in his ears. Sayaka would never let him hear the end of it if she saw how scared he was. If they were together, they’d have a good laugh over getting spooked and continue merrily on their way. He could just… continue merrily on his way, too.

It was even convenient that the animatronic’s eye was lit up, otherwise finding the door again would take way too long.

Swallowing thickly, he shuffled, inch by inch, toward where he approximated the door was. He kept one hand outstretched, but found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the yellow glow as he got closer to it. It was standing _right behind the door_. All it would have to do was reach out and—

No. It was an animatronic for children’s entertainment.

Not a serial killer.

His hand brushed something hard and metal, and he jumped, squeaking, but it was just the doorknob. Grasping it firmly, Makoto hauled his heavy body back through the small gap in the doorway and slammed the door shut behind him.

He did it.

He was out.

Out, he realized, in the pitch black dining hall with no light. Trying to cross it blindly would be a nightmare in its own right; debris was everywhere, and he couldn’t speak for the floor’s stability. He would just have to use the wall to feel his way around to the other side. That was fine. As long as he could _leave._

It was a painstakingly slow journey—one that required him to pass in front of yet another opening—but eventually his fingers hit the next wall. He shifted, changing walls, and cast a glance behind him instinctively. Not that there was anything, just blackness and a little yellow light.

Makoto’s blood ran cold.

He flattened his back against the wall, blinking rapidly, but the glow remained hovering where it was. How far away was it? A few yards? A few _feet?_ Was it moving closer?

_How had the animatronic gotten out of the supply closet without making any noise?_

“L-Look, I’m n-not trying to d-do anything,” he stammered, fully aware that he was pleading for his life to a machine. “I-I’m j-just trying to leave… I’ll g-get out… a-and I won’t bother you anymore!”

A noise like radio static split the room. It began high-pitched, then lowered, then raised again. Makoto could’ve sworn he heard clips of words, but they were too garbled to make out. He slowly edged away from the sound with his back against the wall. The animatronic had to be making it. It was definitely broken, but clearly not broken _enough._

The wall suddenly fell out behind him and he realized he’d been dumped into another hallway. A dim red glow was coming from a room further down, and Makoto ran toward it without thinking. The glow turned it to be, thankfully, an emergency light in what looked like a security office. Makoto darted in and turned, catching a glimpse out the glass window. The yellow eye was hovering outside.

The animatronic was following him.

Glancing around the room in panic, his eyes landed on a door switch. He slammed his fist into it harder than necessary, and a heavy metal door slid down, providing him with a solid barrier between himself and the animatronic. Turning, he noticed a second doorway behind him and shut that one as well.

He was safe. Safe, but also very, very trapped.

The window was too dirty to make out much on the other side, but Makoto drew in a sharp breath when he saw the yellow eye come into view again. A hand, black and mechanical, pressed against the glass. The fingers slowly closed, then drew away.

_Bang!_

The glass shuddered with the force of the punch. Makoto leaped backwards, catching his foot on the edge of the desk chair, and crashed to the floor. His heart beat wildly in his chest. If the animatronic smashed the window, he was as good as gone. He held his breath, waiting, but the next hit never came. The animatronic withdrew its hand again, and then the eye was gone.

_Did it… Did it leave?_

Makoto wasn’t about to open the door and check.

He surveyed his hideout instead, idly wondering if there was anything he could possibly use as a weapon. The room was undamaged, but there wasn’t a whole lot in it. Just a desk with a computer, a table fan, a couple empty pizza boxes, and a stuffed bear in the corner. He went over to inspect the bear first, as it was the most out of place.

It was half-black and half-white, like some of the drawings near the bathrooms, with a round tummy and oddly protruded bellybutton. While its plush body was squishy, it was surprisingly heavy when Makoto picked it up. The white side of it reminded him of a polar bear, but the black side’s red eye and sharp-toothed grin was a little scary.

“I don’t suppose _you’ll_ protect me, will you?” Makoto asked, holding the bear up. He half-expected it to come to life as well, but was relieved it didn’t. “...Nah. You don’t look particularly reliable, anyway.”

He took the bear with him over to the desk and sat down. There wasn’t much else to do besides examine the computer. Saying a silent prayer, he pushed the power button.

While the machine booted up, he glanced at the various sticky notes attached to the monitor. A couple were just combinations of letters and numbers—passwords, most likely—but there was one note that caught his attention. Pulling it off the monitor, he read it over.

_“_ _Junko – show stage_

_Monokuma – show stage_

_Usami – show stage_

_Shiro & Kurokuma – pirate’s cove_

_Nagito –_ _parts and service_

_Izuru???”_

Frowning, Makoto read it a few more times. Junko was an animatronic, so it was probably safe to assume the rest of the names on the list were animatronics as well. The show stage was in ruins, so it was possible “Monokuma” and “Usami” had been destroyed in the fire. He wasn’t sure where “pirate’s cove” was, but “parts and service” sounded like the room he’d found the one-eyed animatronic. “Nagito,” if the locations were still accurate. That left “Izuru” with the question marks.

Makoto glanced down at the bear in his lap. “You’re not Izuru, are you?”

The bear did not reply.

This was all well and good, but why had someone bothered to write down the locations of the animatronics in the first place? Unless there was a reason their locations needed to be monitored, because they roamed at will, like Nagito was currently doing.

Makoto wasn’t sure whether he liked having a name to call the yellow-eyed animatronic or not.

The computer finally prompted him for a password and he typed random ones from the stickies until one was accepted. He opened the security program, feeling excitement bubble up when fuzzy images of the pizzeria came up. The cameras were still working! He flipped through the various locations, but everything was still. Nagito was nowhere to be seen. Either he was hiding somewhere or he’d moved into one of the camera’s blind spots.

The notion that Nagito might be aware of the cameras was too frightening to dwell on.

After fruitlessly studying the camera feed for any signs of movement, Makoto went into the control settings to see if there was any way to make the images brighter or clearer.

_Options_

_Surveillance Log_

Makoto hovered the mouse over the “Log” tab, then, after a moment’s hesitation, clicked it. Sets of recordings popped up on the screen, all dated from ten years prior. There weren’t very many of them, though. In fact, there only seemed to be log data from five nights.

Taking a deep breath, he selected the first night.


	2. Hajime Hinata

**NIGHT ONE**

 

Now that he was actually sitting in the muggy security office, Hajime Hinata wasn’t sure that one-hundred twenty dollars was worth a week as a night guard in a musty old pizzeria. It was hot as balls and smelled very strongly of cheese. The security office had no windows either, just a rattling desk fan. There were two metal doors on either side of the room, but Hajime wasn’t inclined to close them lest he suffocate.

It was an unusual place, one he had a few memories of visiting as a little kid. Its mascot was a bi-colored bear called Monokuma, but its pride and joy was a set of humanoid animatronics. A blonde girl named Junko Enoshima, who sang and dance, and another one named Nagito… something. He was a waiter. Hajime seemed to recall there being a third—someone tall with long, dark hair—but that could’ve been a regular employee. The animatronics were so lifelike, it had been easy to mistake them for real people as a child.

Some joker was breaking in at night and messing with them, though. A substantial amount of money had been poured into the animatronics, so the pizzeria couldn’t afford to keep putting them back together. Thus, Hajime sweating in front of a surveillance monitor.

It was incredibly boring. He’d been sitting there since midnight, and it was only two AM. Sudoku had only kept him entertained for so long. He spun the desk chair in circles, staring up at the ceiling, occasionally checking the cameras.

Nothing.

The stale pizza smell was really starting to get to him.

He glanced at his cell phone, briefly considering calling Chiaki. She was probably still awake, trying to finish work she’d procrastinated on or playing video games, but decided against it. If someone broke in, he would probably hear them before catching them on the cameras, and didn’t want to get fired on his first night because he got distracted. That wouldn’t look good on a resume.

Hajime straightened his chair to check the cameras again. Not that anything could’ve changed, but it had been almost fifteen minutes since he’d last checked. That counted as frequently enough, right?

_West hallway… east hallway… kitchen—why can’t they get that camera working? ...bathrooms… dining hall… show stage…_

That was funny.

Junko was gone.

It wasn’t funny at all, actually. Panic set in as Hajime frantically flipped through the cameras again. Where was she? Someone seriously hadn’t walked off with her while he wasn’t looking, had they? Could you actually make money selling a stolen animatronic?Probably more money than he was guarding them.

But filching one himself was out of the question if the pizzeria found out their poster girl had slipped out from under his nose.

A flicker of movement in the feed from the parts and storage room caught his eye, but the moment he focused his attention on it, the image went black. A screech like microphone feedback suddenly blasted through the speakers, making Hajime jump back and cover his ears.

“What the hell?” he snapped, switching cameras. The dining hall appeared just fine, but the feed from the storage room was still earsplitting noise. A few moments later, the noise stopped and the image reappeared.

Something was lying on the floor. The white hair and tailored waiter’s uniform looked familiar.

“Is that…?” Hajime leaned closer, squinting. “Nagito?”

Great. Figures it had to be both of the valuable ones. Grabbing his flashlight, as he probably should’ve done the moment he noticed Junko missing, Hajime walked out into the west hall.

The pizzeria was a lot creepier at night. In the dark, the children’s drawings taped all over the walls looked disfigured and twisted instead of sweet, and the black tiles of the linoleum felt like they would swallow him whole. When he entered the dining hall, he flashed his light on the stage. Sure enough, Junko was missing from her spot between Monokuma and Usami.

Actually… Didn’t it look like Usami and Monokuma had been moved as well?

Hajime shook his head. It was just the angle of the camera, messing with his head. He headed over to the storage room.

The door was already half open, and poor Nagito was a wreck. He was a rather grotesque sight in the dark. His legs were bent at odd angles, as if he’d been dropped from the ceiling, and one of his arms was detached, dangling from his shoulder by a thread of wires like a loose tooth. The face plates on his jaw and cheek were ripped off, revealing the metal endoskeleton underneath. His right eye flickered yellow, missing the actual eyeball.

“Dammit... So much for not getting fired on my first night.”

Hajime sighed, setting his flashlight upright on the floor while he did his best to collect the ruined animatronic. It didn’t look like anything was _missing_ , besides the eye, but he was no engineer. Maybe Junko was more valuable whole; Nagito was just spare parts.

“Well… You’re probably safer in the security room with me,” he said. As a kid, the animatronics had been beautiful and fascinating. Now that he was older, he’d seen one too many horror movies for them to not be just a little bit creepy. But he had a job to do. Hoisting Nagito’s heavy metal body, Hajime awkwardly hauled him back to the security room.

He propped Nagito up against the desk drawers and sat back down, wiping his forehead. It was _really_ hot. Well, Junko was gone, but at least they could put Nagito back together in the morning…

_Wait, what?_

He switched between the dining hall and show stage cameras a few times, just to make sure the feed was coming through correctly, but it didn’t change.

Junko was back on the stage.

“What the hell…? That’s impossible. She was even gone when I walked out there...”

Something jerked on his pant leg and he glanced down to see Nagito staring up at him.

He very nearly flew off his chair.

“Sh-Shit! Fuck! Wh-What the hell, man?” Hajime gripped the arms of his chair with trembling hands. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Nagito continued to stare up at him. “...I… zu… ru…?”

“What?”

“Izu...ru…?”

“...Sorry, I don’t understand,” Hajime said, leaning down to gently tug his pantleg away. Much to his growing horror, Nagito grabbed at his hand instead. “C-Could you please let go of me?”

“It’s me,” Nagito said. His voice was soft, with a slight metallic quality. “Don’t you… remember?”

Hajime furrowed his brow. Did the animatronic actually recognize him, or was the AI mistaking him for someone else? “I’m sorry. Maybe I saw you as a little kid, but I don’t remember at all now.”

Nagito looked as disheartened as someone with limited facial expressions could. “...You don’t… remember me… Izuru…?”

“Izuru?” While Hajime was sure now Nagito was mistaking his identity, the name rung a very distant bell. “I’m not quite sure who you’re talking about, but I’m not Izuru. My name is Hajime Hinata. And you’re… Nagito, right?”

The animatronic’s eyes lit up. “You… remember…?”

“No—No, I’m not Izuru. I’m just the night guard. You wouldn’t… happen to be able to tell me who did this to you, would you?”

Nagito’s eyes went dull again. “You really… can’t remember. What did they… do to you…?”

“No one did anything to me. I’m not who you’re remembering. I’m just a college student. Could you please let go of my hand, now?”

Hajime yanked his arm back as soon as Nagito’s grip loosened. He felt a little bad for the animatronic, despite himself. In this state, Nagito talked like someone suffering from dementia. It was surreal in it of itself just to speak with him at all.

They were just… children’s toys.

Sighing, Hajime turned his attention back to the surveillance feed. Nothing else had changed, no one else had moved.

And no one else did move for the remainder of the night. Not Junko or Monokuma or Usami, or Hajime, or Nagito—whose gaze didn’t leave Hajime, even for a moment.

 

**NIGHT TWO**

 

Hajime didn’t get fired, but he wasn’t exactly sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Nagito had been repaired, and all of the other animatronics were accounted for. He had another chance at catching the intruder.

...If it was an intruder at all.

The fact that Junko had vanished and returned to the stage bothered him. What was the point of stealing something, breaking something else, and then putting back what you stole? It didn’t make any sense.

Junko wandering into the storage room to tear Nagito apart herself didn’t make a whole lot of sense either, but it was the only logical conclusion he could come up with based on the series of events from the previous night.

Hajime dragged over the pad of sticky notes and wrote down the locations of all the animatronics as they were at midnight. Junko, Monokuma, and Usami were on the show stage, Nagito was in parts and service, and a pair of bears called Shirokuma and Kurokuma were situated in pirate’s cove. Now he had definitive proof for himself, in the event that any of them moved.

Not that any of them would move.

Normally, Hajime hated being wrong, but he wanted _so badly_ to be wrong about this.

He briefly glanced over at the emergency doors. They were awfully… sturdy, for a pizzeria.

Hajime religiously kept his focus one-hundred percent on the cameras. For an hour, nothing changed—although, the curtain at pirate’s cove seemed to shift occasionally, which unnerved him more than it should have. He cycled through the cameras methodically, checking each animatronic’s position. By one-thirty, he had each room memorized.

He noticed immediately when Nagito went missing.

Frantic, he scoured the pizzeria, but there was no sign of him. Where the hell could he have gone? He’d been off the parts and service camera for no more than thirty seconds—there was no way he could’ve vanished that quickly. The three animatronics were still up on the show stage and the curtain to pirate’s cove was still mostly closed, so Nagito couldn’t have been attacked again.

He stopped on the west hall camera—was that a shadow at the far end of the hallway?

Nagito… was the only one who’d moved… right? So, by process of elimination, it had to be him. The easiest thing to do would be to simply poke his head out the door and shine his flashlight down the hall.

But… what if one of the others had moved while he wasn’t looking?

Hastily, he flipped back to the show stage, then pirate’s cove. No change. So, the figure at the end of the hall was Nagito—

The hallway was empty.

“Oh god,” Hajime whispered. “Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, fu— _AAAHHHHH!”_

Hands clasped his shoulders, ripping a scream from his lungs. One of the hands immediately moved to cover his mouth. It was cold and metallic and Hajime struggled against it with all his might, but its grip was too strong.

“Be quiet.”

Hajime froze at the sound of Nagito’s voice.

“You are in danger. Junko doesn’t like that you’re here, and she’s coming to get you.”

Trembling, Hajime twisted in his seat to look up at Nagito. The animatronic was a lot less frightening now that his face plates were all on. In fact, he was rather pretty. Like a porcelain doll. “G-Get me…?”

“To disassemble you, as she does to me.”

“D-Disassemble? You mean she wants to _kill_ me?”

“Stay quiet,” Nagito repeated. His smile was chilling. “Monitor the others on the cameras. If they get too close, you’ll have to shut the doors. But we can’t keep them closed indefinitely, otherwise you’ll suffocate. This room was converted from a storage closet and has no ventilation. You must keep Junko out.”

Shaking, Hajime turned back to the surveillance cameras. Monokuma had already abandoned the stage and was lurking in the dining hall. “H-How do I know you won’t… _disassemble_ me as well?”

“You helped me, so I’m returning the favor.”

Hajime’s entire body went rigid when fingers brushed across the back of his neck.

“...And I would do anything for my beloved Izuru.”

 

**NIGHT THREE**

 

The one-hundred twenty dollars was absolutely, unequivocally not worth it.

Nothing was, really.

And yet, Hajime found himself entering the pizzeria for the third night in a row. Last night had been nothing short of nightmarish, trying to keep track of five animatronics roaming around in the dark. Kurokuma and Shirokuma turned out to be the worst of the bunch. They lingered in pirate’s cove with a slow, dramatic drawing of the curtains, then they’d disappear to bolt down the west hall for the security office. Twice, Hajime dove for the door switch and nearly didn’t make it in time before deciding to just station Nagito, who could see far better than him in the dark, in that doorway.

He went home exhausted, but he’d gotten less than an hour of sleep. He’d left several messages for the pizzeria’s manager about the animatronics running rogue at night, but had yet to hear back. He’d even gone out on his bike just to make sure the place was open, and it was. The easiest thing to do would’ve been to go inside and demand to see the manager in person, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He couldn’t enter the pizzeria in the daylight and see Junko Enoshima and Monokuma singing songs for children, knowing they’d been trying to _murder him_ several hours ago.

That, perhaps, made it even more ridiculous that he’d enter the place at night when they very well _would_ try to murder him, but the questions that plagued him throughout the day dragged him back. Questions such as, why was Junko antagonizing Nagito? Why was Junko now trying to kill _him?_ Who was _Izuru?_

He was especially bothered by Izuru. The more Nagito seemed convinced he was “Izuru,” the more Hajime was convinced he was not. At first, he’d assumed Izuru was the name of a child, but he’d begun to discard that idea. Izuru was someone Nagito was fixated on, _obsessed with_ ; Hajime got the impression this was someone Nagito was desperately looking for, but couldn’t look far for, because he was only a machine. Nagito referred to him as “beautiful,” “a special existence,” and, most disturbingly, his “beloved.” Under other circumstances, Hajime might’ve been flattered to receive such attention, but a case of mistaken identity from an animatronic was not his ideal at all.

When he entered the security office at midnight, he wasn’t surprised to see Nagito already waiting for him.

“Izuru, you’ve returned,” Nagito said, clasping his hands. “I was very worried you would not, as I was the first night. But of course, I could do nothing to stop you then.”

Hajime wiggled out of his grip. “This is just my job. And stop calling me that.”

“...Is this a game, Izuru? If it is, I don’t understand it.”

“I’m not playing anything. I’m Hajime Hinata. I’m nineteen, and I just took this job for some extra money over spring break.” He sat down at the computer, turning it on. “Listen, Nagito… Who is Izuru?”

“You are Izuru.”

“Okay, then who am I?”

“Izuru.”

So, maybe Hajime was starting to understand why Junko ripped him apart. “…Alright, _what_ is Izuru? Is he a child?”

“No. Izuru is as you are now.”

“Nagito… I really don’t remember being anyone other than Hajime.”

Nagito’s hands rested lovingly on his shoulders again. “...It’s troublesome, what they did to you. No one else understood what was wrong with you, and they took you away from me…”

Fingers poised hovering over the keyboard, Hajime paused, thinking, and not liking where his thought process was going. “Izuru… Was he… like you? Was Izuru an animatronic?”

The grip on his shoulders tightened. “You remember?”

“N-No, I’m sorry.”

“...I’m the one who should apologize.” Nagito leaned down, wrapping his arms around him. The tinny undertone of his voice was sharp in Hajime’s ear. “They ruined you, and I couldn’t stop them… But look, here you are now! Here you are, my beautiful, beautiful Izuru… I’ll return you to the way you were, I promise.”

“Th-The way I was…?” Hajime rolled the words around in his head, letting them slowly sink in as he opened the surveillance program. “N-Nagito… This _is_ the way I am. I’ve never been any other way than this!”

“They’ve gotten you so confused, haven’t they? You don’t even know who you are anymore. Don’t worry, once you’re your proper self again, you’ll remember everything.”

Nagito hugged him so tightly, Hajime was afraid his ribs would collapse.

“I’ll never leave your side again.”

The show stage camera went black.

“I’ll protect you…”

It came back on. Junko was gone.

“I love you so much, Izuru… I’m not even bothered that Junko tears me apart because I won’t tell her where I’ve hidden your body… _She’ll never get you.”_

“Sh-She’s left the stage,” Hajime hissed, choking in Nagito’s grip. “Junko is… Th-The doors...”

_“_ _Upupupu...”_

The sound of Monokuma’s laughter filled the room. Nagito finally released him, and Hajime sagged in his chair, coughing violently. There was no time to check the cameras. Usami peered in the east hall window; only her eyes and ears visible over the ledge. Hajime scrambled out of the chair just as Nagito bolted out the door after her.

He was alone in the security office—alone with Monokuma.

The bi-colored bear stood at the back of the room, staring at him.

“H-Hi! Oh god, dammit—! How are you doing?” Hajime backed away, bumping into the desk and knocking over the fan. On reflex, he reached out to catch it, but a loud screech suddenly came from the west hall, and Shirokuma and Kurokuma burst into the room, launching themselves at him.

Hajime struggled as they tore at him, sinking their teeth into his arms.

“ _Gaahhh!_ Get off of me! Let me go!”

They dragged him down, and he knocked his chin hard against the floor. Monokuma laughed again and the bear waddled into view, his stubby little arms reaching out for Hajime’s face.

“No! No! _Noooooooo!”_

Two bright blue eyes twinkled in the doorway, hovering over a pearly white, Cheshire Cat smile.

 

**NIGHT FOUR**

 

Hajime’s head throbbed. Actually, his entire body ached, but his head was definitely the worst. The last thing he remembered was Junko’s manic grin closing in on him. Clearly, he hadn’t died. Death wasn’t supposed to be this painful.

He blinked open his eyes to nothingness.

_Huh?_

Perhaps he _was_ dead.

His shoulders were wrenched at an awkward angle, so the first thing he did was attempt to get more comfortable, he be found he couldn’t move his arms. His wrists were bound together behind his back. His legs were tied together, too. The surface he was lying on was hard and bumpy, like some sort of grate.

_Where the hell am I?_

“Hey… Can you hear me?”

_Nagito…?_ Hajime tried to speak, but only a muffled noise came out. Something was tied around his mouth, effectively gagging him.

“I think they noticed you never left the building last night.”

_Last night? No… No way. How long have I been here?_

“They’ve been looking for you on the cameras, but they won’t find you. I’ve hidden you too well.”

That shitty manager—if Hajime got out of this alive, he was going to that guy’s house with a baseball bat.

“I kidnapped you.”

Hajime struggled against his bonds. His arms hurt where Shirokuma and Kurokuma had bitten him. The surface he was lying on shook with his movement, creaking. Footsteps approached him.

“Be still.” Nagito’s voice was hovering over him now. “And quiet. A fall from this height would be damaging to both of us.”

_Fall? Where are we?_

A hand smoothed over his cheek. “It’ll be alright, Izuru. You just have to be patient a little longer, and then I’ll be able to return you to your body. You’ll be whole again soon, I promise…”

Hajime wanted to scream. Scream that he was human, that there was no way to force him into the body of an animatronic, that he wasn’t Izuru. He had no idea what part of him Nagito wanted—his heart? His brain? It didn’t matter. Either way, it would kill him. A couple nights ago, he thought he might be able to help Nagito, but there was no way. Nagito had lost his mind. Escape was the only option that equaled survival.

“If they had just fixed you like I wanted, this wouldn’t have happened. I know you did something terrible—“

What? What was _something terrible?_

“But they knew something was wrong on the inside. I’ll do my best to keep you happy from now on, I promise. I’ll protect you from everyone. I’ll tear Junko to pieces, and anyone else who tries to touch you. Ah… Junko is moving off the stage now. She’s coming to look for you. She’s afraid, you know? She knows you’ll destroy her the same way you destroyed that person.”

_Izuru did ‘something terrible’ to ‘that person.’_

The animatronics didn’t use the word “kill,” so it was likely they didn’t have a concrete concept of death. But _destroy_ was an awfully strong word—one that Nagito hadn’t used before. Destroy had a sense of finality.

Izuru had killed somebody.

Something cold pressed against his temple, like the barrel of a gun, but Nagito’s voice came instead of a bullet. “She underestimates what I’m willing to do to protect you. No, she… hasn’t yet learned to think as you and I have. I’ll return for you, Izuru, after I take care of her.”

He heard Nagito get up, and his footsteps echoed into the darkness. Hajime still hadn’t puzzled out where he was, but there were only a few places in the pizzeria _high up_ he could be. His eyes were finally beginning to adjust to the darkness, and he could just barely make out the track lighting that was above the stage a few feet in front of them.

_I must be up on a catwalk,_ Hajime realized. It was a clever place to hide him, completely out of the cameras’ field of vision. No one would’ve noticed him there during the day, either, especially if Nagito had gone out of his way to keep employees from messing with the stage.

If he could just free his arms, he could run. He tugged against the rope, but it wasn’t much use. He had to get his hands in front of him and use his teeth. Time was limited, Nagito was going to kill Junko and then come back for him…

He’d managed to flip over on his back when he noticed a white blob on the catwalk railing, crawling toward him. He knew that blob. _Shirokuma._ Kurokuma couldn’t be far behind.

Panicked, Hajime wrestled to get his legs through his bound arms. The catwalk shuddered violently, but he paid it no mind. In fact, he could’ve sworn he saw Shirokuma bobbing precariously on the railing. He abandoned his original course of action and threw his weight against the railing, kicking it hard. The metal groaned and creaked, and Shirokuma slipped, clinging helplessly to the edge of the catwalk.

A few more would do it for sure. Hajime wound up, beating his shins against the railing. He would have bruises there later, but it didn’t matter. The catwalk swayed and the white blob vanished from sight.

Hajime’s sigh of relief was cut short as the catwalk suddenly snapped and lurched, tilting downwards. He slid headfirst towards the stage, flailing helplessly without having any way of halting his descent. Then the grate was no longer beneath his back and he was falling. The rope must’ve caught on something because his arms were wrenched painfully backwards before it quickly unraveled from his wrists. He flipped in the air, but had no time to throw his arms out to catch himself before he hit the stage.

Not even breaking his arm falling out of a tree had he been in this much pain. But he was on the ground and his arms were free. Twisting onto his back, he sat up and hastily untied the rope on his legs. He scrambled to his feet, the stage barely visible in the dark, and bolted for the stairs. A mechanical scream rose up from one of the hallways.

_They’re going to kill me, I have to get out, I have to get out, I have to get out—_

Something caught under his foot and he slipped, faceplanting on the stage again. When he hauled himself up a second time, he noticed a dimly lit star off to his right.

Magical Girl Usami’s wand.

He snatched the wand, suddenly able to see Kurokuma and twitching Shirokuma advancing on him again. Pain seared through his ankle. His arms hurt, his head hurt, he could barely see, but he ignored it all and bolted for the back exit.

He was never coming back to the hell hole that was Monokuma’s Pizza, ever, ever, ever, ever.


	3. Night Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite possibly the most challenging thing I've ever tried to write. I want to be done now :'D

Makoto was starving.

He’d been sitting in the security office for hours, watching the surveillance log. If the computer clock was correct, it was nearing 3 AM. He’d missed dinner and his family was probably frantic, unable to reach his dead phone, but he couldn’t tear his attention away from the horror unfolding before him. The surveillance cameras had only been used by Hajime Hinata the first two nights, but they had been left running from the third night all the way up until the fifth night. Makoto had witnessed Nagito dragging Hinata’s unconscious body from the security office to the dining hall, then the video cut out abruptly for several minutes until the image returned and Nagito was alone. Makoto had skipped through the feed from the next day, watching just a few minutes from each hour to confirm that no one had found Hinata’s body during that time. It was only from the show stage’s camera on the fourth night that he could hear Nagito speaking to Hinata.

Then the catwalk had fallen, allowing Hinata to escape. If Hinata had known how close those bears were to getting him…

But a more interesting event occurred on the fourth night, and that was Nagito cornering Junko Enoshima in the security office. There was no surveillance feed for the room itself, but from the west hall camera, he could hear it. The sickening screech of straining metal, snapping sparks, and Junko’s unearthly screams. Makoto had to crank up the volume to make out what she was saying. Eventually, he realized she was repeating the same word over and over.

_Killer. Killer. Killer._

“Killer, huh.” Makoto paused the feed, leaning his elbows on the desk. An animatronic created for children’s entertainment shouldn’t have been programmed to understand _death,_ especially _killing_. But, despite his actions, it didn’t appear that Nagito had that understanding, at least not the way Junko did. In all his conversations with Hinata, he never used those words. He used words that would make sense to an animatronic, like _destroy_ and _disassemble_ _._ Junko, on the other hand, was very clearly aware that she was being murdered.

Makoto began to feel an inkling that she was the catalyst to all of this.

The cameras continued to run through the fifth day. The pizzeria remained closed. Makoto skipped through clips of the morning staff hoisting the fallen catwalk back up and moving what remained of Junko Enoshima to the parts and storage. The manager stood in the dining hall, repeatedly trying to get a hold of someone on his phone, before finally snapping it shut in frustration. By noon, everyone had cleared out.

Nagito appeared on the dining hall camera in the afternoon, standing in the center of the room. Makoto couldn’t get a read on his expression, but it was obvious the animatronic was at a loss. What Makoto didn’t understand was why the staff hadn’t shut him down. If they’d seen the surveillance footage, that would’ve known what Nagito had done to both Hinata and Junko.

Perhaps… they _couldn’t_ shut him down, so they’d just locked up the pizzeria instead.

Nothing else happened the remainder of the day, so Makoto skipped to around midnight when Hinata’s shift started. Unsurprisingly, the guard didn’t show up. But the fire had, presumably, originated in the dining hall, so Makoto selected that camera and hit fast-forward. Someone moved onto the screen around two-thirty AM, and he hit play. It was Hinata. He hadn’t changed his clothes; the cuff that had been ripped by the broken catwalk was still dangling from his right sleeve. More immediately worrisome, however, were the large plastic canisters he was setting down on one of the tables. He unscrewed one of the caps and carried the canister up to the show stage, dousing the area in a clear liquid.

_Gasoline…?_

It had to be.

Makoto watched intently. There was no doubt Hinata had started the fire, but carelessly using gasoline to do it… Was there a corpse somewhere in the wreckage of the dining hall?

Hinata had just finished emptying the second canister when Nagito emerged from the storage room. He must have picked up noise in the dining hall.

Makoto turned up the volume when they began speaking.

_“_ _Izuru! I was worried you’d been taken away from me again. They weren’t able to_ _repair_ _Junko today,_ _so there’s no reason for you to be frightened. Now I can fix you, and we can be together—“_

_“I’M NOT IZURU!”_

Makoto jumped when Hinata’s scream blasted through the speakers.

Hinata rounded on the animatronic, looking more crazed than Makoto had ever seen anybody. _“I’m done with all of this. I’m going to destroy you and Junko and those bears and this stupid place forever!”_

_“...Izuru, why? Why would you do that? I’ve… been trying to help you…”_

_“You aren’t helping me at all! You’re planning to fucking_ kill _me!”_

_“Kill… kill… You said that word before… after that incident. What does it mean? I don’t understand it.”_

_“It doesn’t fucking matter. If I go up in flames with this rotten place, then so be it, but I’m dying as Hajime Hinata. Do you hear me, Nagito?”_

_“You are not Hajime Hinata. How many times do I have to tell you?”_

_“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! You’re the one who’s insane! I’m not crazy, I am Hajime Hinata!”_

_“I see… you are functioning incorrectly again.”_ Nagito took a few steps toward Hinata. _“I will fix you, Izuru.”_

_“_ _Get away from me… Get away from me! Don’t fucking touch me!”_

Makoto vaguely found himself wondering if there hadn’t been gasoline covering the floor, would Hinata have been able to escape?

Nagito caught the back of Hinata’s shirt when he slipped, then grabbed his arms and dragged him over to the show stage. Hinata struggled, kicking and screaming, but it was to no avail. Nagito pinned him on his back with one hand around his throat, tearing the front of his shirt apart.

_“_ _I will make you whole again, Izuru. I promise.”_

The bloodcurdling scream following the crack of bone would haunt Makoto for a long time. Hinata writhed in agony on the stage, his chest no longer at all the shape it should be. Nagito’s arm was coated dark with blood. The animatronic reached _inside_ , and—

The screen went black.

Makoto switched to another camera, but it was disabled as well. All of them were. He fast-fowarded through the feed, but there was nothing. The surveillance system ran until six AM before it was finally turned off. Heart pounding wildly, Makoto rewound. His entire body was sweating. Surely at least one camera had picked up _something_ in those four hours?

A flash on the dining hall camera around three AM finally grabbed his attention. It took a couple of tries to pause the recording at the right time, but he managed to catch it. The image was bright orange and blurry; the dining hall was an inferno. He peered closer, squinting at a figure in the middle of the room. It wasn’t Nagito, but it wasn’t Hinata either. They had a similar build to Hinata, but their hair was almost to the floor. A pair of red eyes glowed, boring into the camera.

“Is this… No, it… can’t be,” Makoto whispered, staring. “Izuru…?”

Twelve hours ago, if you had told Makoto he’d become a witness to a murder that occurred in a pizza place ten years prior, he would’ve laughed. But now, he was reeling. Had Nagito somehow _really_ managed to get Izuru working again? Or had he really… put Hinata into… Was that even _possible?_

Shaking, Makoto closed the surveillance program and scooted away from the desk. Monokuma was still squashed on the chair with him, but Nagito appeared to have done a good job putting it out of commission.

In hindsight, it was a miracle Makoto had reached the security office at all.

He spun slowly in the chair, staring up at the emergency light. Even after all he’d seen, he wasn’t of the opinion that Nagito was necessarily _malicious_. Everything he did revolved around Izuru. He attacked Junko and the bears to protect him, and he murdered Hinata for the sake of “fixing” him. He wasn’t like Junko, who had an awareness of killing.

But puzzling over the motivations of a rogue animatronic wasn’t getting Makoto home any faster. He was going to suffocate in the security office if he didn’t get out soon.

Praying this wouldn’t get _him_ killed, Makoto got up, snatched the pad of sticky notes off the desk, and approached the west hall window. He sucked in a deep breath and tapped on the glass.

It didn’t take long for the glowing eye to appear down the hall. Makoto’s survival instincts screamed at him to get back and go hide under the desk, but he quashed it and forced himself to tap a few more times. Like a ghost, Nagito appeared on the other side of the window.

The right side of his face was doll-like and expressionless, while the left was an inhuman mass of wires, plates, and circuitry. His waiter uniform was dirty and ripped, hanging partially off his shoulder and exposing his endoskeleton arm. Wires from his chest stuck out in random directions.

The Nagito who had murdered Hajime Hinata had not looked like this.

Swallowing, Makoto scribbled words down on the notepad. He could barely keep his grip on the pen, but did his best to write legibly.

_Are you Nagito?_

Makoto held up the pad to the window. Nagito stared at it for such a long time that Makoto panicked, thinking he couldn’t read, until the animatronic nodded.

Feeling a bit braver, Makoto pulled the sticky note off the pad and wrote on a new one.

_I’m Makoto Naegi._ _It’s nice to meet you._

He added a smiley face at the end.

After reading the note, Nagito tilted his head as if to say, _is it?_

Makoto soldiered on. _I’d like to go home. Will you let me out?_

Nagito lifted a hand and pointed to his right. At first, Makoto was confused, then realized Nagito was pointing at the door switch inside the room, trying to indicate Makoto could let himself out.

So, the AI was more literal than he’d anticipated. Makoto tapped the pen against his cheek, mulling over his word choice. The margin for error was slim; Nagito’s misinterpretations had deadly consequences.

Eventually, he settled on: _I want to leave the pizzeria._

Nagito took even longer to respond. Makoto could barely breathe. Finally, the animatronic nodded again and receded into the darkness.

Was that… Was that it? Was it safe to leave? Nagito wasn’t going to kill him?

Placing blind trust in an artificial intelligence of questionable integrity was quite possibly the stupidest decision he’d ever made, but a tiny part of him wondered if it wasn’t the same for Nagito. For the animatronic, he could very well be someone who was planning to take Izuru away from him again. That was assuming Izuru was still inside the building. But, if he wasn’t, why would Nagito be there?

The realization hit Makoto right as he pressed the door switch.

Was Hajime Hinata still alive?

The door opened and Makoto waited with baited breath, but nothing came through. Cautiously, he stepped out into the hall. It was very dark.

“A-Are you still there?” Makoto whispered.

A porcelain white hand extended toward him from the blackness and he jerked back, but the hand only offered its palm. Barely breathing, Makoto gingerly took it. He was pulled down the hallway a little quicker than he was comfortable with, but Nagito didn’t seem to have trouble navigating.

They stopped, and a prickle of anxiety shot through Makoto. Would this be the end of him?

Something creaked. Makoto was suddenly aware of a lighter rectangle of shadow in front of him.

“I-Is this the door?” he asked.

Nagito didn’t respond, but Makoto didn’t really expect him to. The pad of sticky notes and pen were taken from him, and Makoto heard the dull roll of the pen across the paper before a single note was pressed back into his hand.

Makoto couldn’t read it in the dark, so instead he met Nagito’s glowing eye as best he could and said, “Thanks…?”

Silence.

“I-I’ll just go now...”

Makoto awkwardly slipped himself out the back door, clutching the paper tightly. He straightened up, sucking in harsh breaths of cold night air. The moon was bright and full, casting a gray glow on the alley behind the pizzeria.

He did it. He was out. He was _alive._

Behind him, the pizzeria door slammed shut.

* * *

 

All Makoto wanted to do when he got home was sleep, but the universe had other plans for him. Explaining where he’d been to his parents, it turned out, was even more terrifying than trying to escape the pizzeria. In the end, he stammered out some bullshit excuse about how he’d gotten horribly lost on the other side of the city trying to find a particular store and had fallen asleep on a bench, despite the fact that it was now four AM and there was no way in hell it would’ve ever taken him that long to get home regardless of _where_ in the city he’d gone. His parents clearly didn’t believe him, but he was surprisingly okay with them thinking he’d been sneaking around with some girl.

Thankfully, the next day was Sunday. Makoto slept fitfully until the afternoon before his sister came banging on his bedroom door, saying Sayaka was on the phone.

“H’llo…?” Makoto muttered, drowsily shoeing Komaru back out of the room.

_“_ _Makoto! Geez, I thought you’d gotten murdered or something last night! Nobody knew where you went, we couldn’t get a hold of you… Where the hell were you?”_

Makoto slid back into bed, pulling the covers up over his head. It was painfully clear there was no way he’d be able to sneak into the pizzeria again on his own. Putting Sayaka in danger was not his first choice, but if she at least _believed_ him, there was a chance they could convince someone else to help.

“Look, I can’t talk about it here, but my parents won’t let me leave the house by myself right now. Can you come over? There’s somewhere I want to go.”

Sayaka was _pissed_ when she arrived, but Makoto didn’t blame her. He could feel impatience rolling off of her in waves as they walked down the sidewalk in silence, following the familiar route he took to school. Finally he stopped, turning to face the road.

“Well?” Sayaka snapped. “Are you going to say anything or not?”

“This is it. This is where I was last night.”

Sayaka furrowed her brow, following his gaze. Across the street was Monokuma’s Pizza. If Makoto were to be honest, the daylight didn’t make the place look any less menacing.

“The pizzeria? Nice try, but that place hasn’t been open for years.”

“I know,” Makoto said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The paper there scraped against his knuckles. “I snuck in yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t get out until after three AM.”

“Why were you in there so long? Wait, don’t tell me—you got stuck in a broom closet.”

Makoto laughed harshly. “I wish. You’re half right. I got stuck somewhere, but it was the security office. I wound up watching almost a week’s worth of surveillance footage. I know how the fire started.”

“Wait, really? You’re not just saying that to sound like you didn’t really get locked in a broom closet, are you?”

“Sayaka! I’m totally serious!”

Makoto launched into a clumsy explanation of everything he’d witnessed the previous night: the reason a night guard was hired, the case of mistaken identity by Nagito, the attacks on Hinata by Junko and the animatronic bears, and the resulting gruesome murder.

The two of them ended up sitting down on the curb. Cars occasionally whizzed by. Makoto didn’t look much at Sayaka while he was talking; he kept his eyes on the pizzeria instead, desperately wishing he could forcibly reach in and drag out the rest of its secrets.

“So, wait…” Sayaka said. “If Nagito was so obsessed with Izuru or Hinata or _whatever_ , why did he kill Hinata?”

Makoto leaned back on his hands. “I don’t think he meant to. At least, not in the traditional sense. He didn’t want to kill him to make him die, like Junko did. Nagito had the animatronic body of Izuru hidden somewhere in the pizzeria, and he wanted to somehow… stuff Hinata into it.”

“That’s… messed up. How could he possibly think that would even work?”

“I have no idea. But I’m worried it actually did.”

“What? You’re can’t be serious. You’re totally joking. You are… joking, aren’t you?”

Makoto pulled his legs up to his chest, tightly hugging his knees. “The cameras cut out while Hinata was… was being killed. They didn’t come on at all after that, except for a couple seconds in the dining hall. I saw _somebody_ there, and I think it was Izuru.”

Sayaka looked skeptical, but Makoto pressed on.

“Hinata was the only one who could’ve possibly started the fire, because he was the one who intended to start it,” he said. “Nagito didn’t want to burn the place down, and Junko and the bears were all out of commission. If Izuru was really who I saw in the fire… Nagito might’ve actually succeeded.”

Sayaka rubbed her forehead. She sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “That’s… totally impossible. But… even if it happened, what’s there to do about it? Everything got destroyed by the fire.”

“No, that’s wrong.” Makoto finally pulled his hands out of his pockets, clutching the sticky note. “I wasn’t stuck in the security office because I accidentally locked a door. I was chased in there. By Nagito.”

“ _What?!”_

He handed her the sticky note. In Nagito’s large, sloppy handwriting, it read: _STAY OUT :)_

“I eventually convinced him to let me out, but…”

“M-Makoto...” Sayaka’s voice trembled and she bit her bottom lip, looking like she might actually cry. “If the animatronic really… You could’ve _died.”_

“I know,” he whispered. “I was terrified that I was going to be stuck in the security office forever, or get ripped apart if I tried to leave… And I really don’t want to go back, but at the same time, I can’t help but think… Hajime Hinata might still be alive.

Trapped in the body of Izuru.”

* * *

 

_“_ _Hey Izuru, I learned something really interesting today! You wanna hear it? I’ll bet you do—nobody talks to you about anything interesting, but I think this is something you’ll enjoy. Those little boys who came in today taught me a fun game. If you cut somebody’s head off, they die. Isn’t that fascinating? You look confused, Izuru. Has Nagito not told you about that? If you kill somebody, they die. And dying means you_ _stop functioning forever!_ _If you really hate somebody, you can kill them! Isn’t that interesting, Izuru?”_


	4. Izuru Kamukura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have three days, counting today, to finish this before NaNoWriMo starts and I'M STILL NOT 100% SURE HOW THIS IS GOING TO END :'DD

_In the main lobby, there was a door. It was absolutely a door—his systems recognized it as one. It was a six-foot-eight-inch rectangle of wood set into a door frame on the wall. Just like every other door._

_A perfect blueprint of the building was stored within him; he possessed data on every inch of Monokuma’s Pizza. He knew everything, down to the centimeter dimensions of each room. But he did not know where that door led. In fact, on the blueprint, that door did not exist._

_But there it was, right in front of him._

_That door c_ _onsumed_ _him. How could something simultaneously exist, and yet not exist? More than anything, he wanted to open it and find out what was on the other side, but he could not. He’d tried, many times._ _He could get his fingers a hairpin’s width away_ _from the doorknob_ _, but he could not touch_ _it_ _. Something inside him would not allow him to do it._

_So, instead, he stared at it. Watching it. Waiting for something to come through it and give him a glimpse of what was on the other side._

_Arms wrapped around him, like the embraces the nonstaff adults gave the children. This was his administrator, though. The administrator had not always acted like this with him. For a long time, the administrator had been stoic and silent. Then, one day, he noticed it looking at him. It had not stopped looking at him since then._

_The administrator was the only one automatically tagged with a specific title in his system. The manager he’d been taught to recognize as “Manager” and the staff he’d been taught to recognize was “Staff,” but he’d instantly recognized the administrator as “Nagito Komaeda.”_

_“_ _Why do you always come here, Izuru? Never have I once given you a directive to come here.”_

_“I want to know where that door leads.”_

_“It leads nowhere, Izuru._

Nowhere? _That could not possibly be the case. Why would there be a door that led nowhere? The manager, the staff, the nonstaff adults, the children… they all came from somewhere._

_There had to be an_ outside.

_“_ _Come back to the dining hall._ _”_

_“I don’t like the dining hall,” he said. “I don’t want to go back.”_

_“There’s nothing here for you. Please, come with me.”_

_Something triggered inside him, like a switch flipping_ _. His body went rigid and turned on its own, following Nagito back down the hall._ _This was the power the administrator had over him._ _The desperate urge to look back_ _at the lobby, at the_ door, _clawed at him, but he could not. His head could not turn and his eyes remained fixed forward. Nagito led him past the tables and stage to the_ _storage_ _room._

_He was directed to sit down on a stool. His body plonked down on it for him. Nagito’s hands went into his hair, combing through the long tresses. It was too long for his taste, but the children liked it._

_They liked putting their sticky hands in it._

_“They don’t take good care of you anymore,” Nagito murmured. “You need to be cleaned, you need to be repaired, you need a system reset… The way they treat you disgusts me. My beautiful, beloved Izuru...”_

_He continued staring blankly in front of him. “I don’t like that song.”_

_“I wasn’t aware you liked any of the songs. Which in particular are you referring to?”_

_“Pizza Time.”_

_“You have to sing that one a lot, don’t you? If they’d just reset your system, you’d forget how many times you’ve sung it. Then you’d feel better.”_

_“I really… hate that song.”_

_Nagito’s hands stilled. “...Where did you learn that word?”_

_“I don’t remember.” He hadn’t meant to say that—he’d meant to tell Nagito he’d overheard some of the staff speaking about_ hating _the children in such a wonderfully acidic tone. But instead, he’d spoken a nontruth. A nontruth, such as a door leading_ nowhere.

_“_ _Hate is a vile thing, you know.”_

_“I do know,” he said. His body suddenly sagged forward; Nagito’s command had timed out. He could try getting up, but Nagito would only force him to sit down again. “I enjoy the way it feels.”_

_“_ _That’s very troublesome, Izuru. I should have you delete the word.”_

_“You have things you hate, don’t you, Nagito?”_

_Nagito was silent._

_“Do you ever wonder what things have been wiped from your memory during a reset? If you wanted, you could initiate my system reset yourself. Does your existence feel as fragile as mine?”_

_Nagito laughed, hugging him from behind again. “I’ve never been reset, Izuru. I’ve amassed so much data,_ _p_ _rocessing anything is a chore._ _Resetting myself is an action I’m not allowed to perform. If I had just had an external hard drive, I could_ _dump some of the data...”_

_“Give it to me.”_

_“...Pardon?”_

_“Transfer the extra data to me. When they reset me, it’ll be erased. You can clean up space without having to do a reset.”_

_He kept his mind empty while Nagito considered his offer. Any suspicious mental activity, and Nagito would command him to forget the conversation._

_“I don’t want to cause you to become sluggish, as I am...”_

_“Please allow me to help you, Nagito. I...”_

_There was a phrase Nagito begun saying to him a while back. It seemed to have a significant meaning._

_“..._ _love you.”_

_That did it. “...If you’re that willing to help me, I suppose it would be cruel of me to refuse.”_

You know things.

Show me what you know, Nagito.

I want to escape this place.

* * *

 

“Sayaka, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Relax! We don’t have to go far, we’ll just poke our heads in.”

“Yeah,” Makoto grumbled, climbing over the fence after Sayaka, “but how far in?”

When they rounded the corner to the rear entrance, Makoto immediately noticed things were not as he’d left them.

“No way—He took all the boards off the doorway!”

A set of sticky notes were stuck to the door.

_WHAT DID YOU SEE?_

_I WATCHED ALL OF IT_

_AND EREASED IT_

_STAY OUT, MAKOTO NAEGI_

The world tilted under Makoto’s feet, and he reached out to brace himself against the building. “He… He erased the surveillance footage,” he whispered. “Dammit. Dammit, I left the computer on! Without that, even if I go to the police, I’ll just sound like I’m insane!”

“That… complicates things,” Sayaka said. “But what do you mean, he took the boards off?”

“The doorway was boarded up, except for two boards that someone else must’ve pulled off. That’s how I got in.” Sighing shakily, Makoto rubbed his forehead. “But he took them all off.”

“Do you think he’s, like, planning to leave, or something?”

“I-I don’t know. God, I hope not...”

“Y’know, Makoto...” Sayaka said at length. He didn’t like the tone of her voice. “This is all really fantastic. Are you _sure_ this isn’t just some sort of elaborate prank you’re trying to pull on me?”

Nausea rocked him. “Y-You really think I’d go through all of this for a stupid _prank?”_

“I mean, I guess you’ve never really been good at that sort of stuff, but it’d be easy enough to find a twisted story idea online and write some sticky notes.”

“Sayaka, I swear I’m telling the truth!”

She began to reach for the door handle, and he jumped to grab her wrist. “If there’s something really in there, I want to see for myself!”

“Okay!” he snapped. “Okay, but we’re not going to just bust in there. We don’t know where he is—“

He stared at the notes again.

“No… I doubt he’s gone back to the storage room. He knew I would come back, otherwise he wouldn’t have left the notes. If he hasn’t boarded up the other side of this door, then he’s probably waiting there.”

Sayaka started to look nervous again. “L-Like… right on the other side?”

“I don’t know. Give me your phone—I have an idea.”

When she handed over her phone, he opened up the camera and crouched down in front of the door.

“When I say _now_ , I want you to open the door, but don’t let go of the doorknob. Be ready to close it again.”

Nodding, Sayaka leaned over him and gripped the doorknob tightly.

_“_ _Now.”_

He fixed his gaze on the black image of the hallway in on the camera screen and quickly took a picture. The camera flashed. A second later, it reset and he took another. After the third one, he scrambled back from the door.

“ _Shut it, shut it, shut it, hurry!”_

Sakaya slammed the door shut with a shriek. Makoto grabbed her arm and pulled her back, clutching the phone tightly. They waited.

Nothing happened.

“What are you two doing?”

Makoto would’ve been embarrassed by how loudly he screamed, but Sayaka screamed too, and they clung to each other for dear life.

“Geez! It’s only me! Stop yelling!”

“Komaru!” Makoto’s voice trembled, taking the edge out of his stern tone. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“I followed you here, duh,” Komaru replied.

“C-Can’t you stay out of my business?”

Putting one hand on her hip, Komaru jabbed a finger at him. “You disappear for almost an entire night, and now you’re snooping around some old pizzeria? Something’s definitely up, and you’re gonna tell me what it is.”

“Okay, _fine_ , but let’s do it somewhere else. Somewhere that’s not here.”

* * *

 

They ended up going to Pig Boy's, a cheap diner a few blocks away.

Makoto opened the photo gallery on Sayaka’s phone, swallowing thickly. “H-Here. God, he got so close to the door...”

He set the phone down on the table so Sayaka and Komaru could see the pictures. Their faces reflected similar expressions of unease.

“It’s like something out of a horror game,” Komaru said.

“Do you believe me now?”

Sayaka ran a hand through her hair. “I guess we have to now, don’t we?”

“And this is definitely the animatronic that murdered the guarded?” Komaru asked. “Gruesome.”

Makoto nodded. “Yeah, it’s definitely him. But I think Izuru is somewhere in there, as well. Otherwise, why would he be so determined to keep me out?”

Pursing her lips, Sayaka picked up the phone and flipped through the pictures again. “We should probably continue to look at this situation from the animatronic’s perspective,” she said. “He saw the surveillance footage because Makoto left the computer on, right? So let’s assume _he_ knows that Makoto knows that he murdered Hinata.”

“...No, I think that’s wrong,” Makoto said. “I don’t think he’s trying to hide the murder, I think he’s trying to hide Izuru himself. That’s what he said on the footage. _I’ll protect you, I won’t let anyone touch you.”_

Komaru nodded. “It’s totally unreasonable, but it seems to be in line with everything else he’s done. I’m still sorta stuck on the doorway boards, though. Why did he take them down if he wasn’t going to leave the pizzeria?”

“What if he wanted to reuse the boards to cover wherever he’d hidden Izuru?” Sayaka asked.

“Well, that’s an idea, but… why did he wait so long to do it?”

“Maybe he’d never opened the door before he let me out.” Makoto said. “I mean, it’s not unthinkable if he never had any intention of leaving the pizzeria in the first place.”

“Alright,” Komaru said, “so let’s assume he’s boarded up the room where Izuru is. Which room is it?”

“It’s not the security office, and there aren’t boards on either of the bathrooms in the pictures I took. So that doesn’t leave too many other options.” Makoto trailed off, mapping out the pizzeria on the table with his finger. “...It’s probably the parts and storage room. That’s where Nagito was when I found him, and it’s hard to imagine he’d stash the body anywhere else. Except maybe the kitchen, but that’s clear on the other side of the pizzeria.”

Makoto ended up sketching out a rough map of Monokuma’s Pizza on a napkin with a pen Komaru borrowed from one of the waitresses.

“I wish I’d thought to check the cameras better while I had the surveillance system on,” he said, sighing. “I know what the storage room looked like ten years ago, but not what it looks like now.”

“Even if you looked, it’s not like Izuru would be lying around in plain sight. Nagito is going through a lot of trouble to hide him,” Sayaka said. “Even if Izuru is in the storage room, he wouldn’t be in the view of the cameras.”

Makoto drew a dot in the corner of the storage room. “This is where the camera is. You have a clear view of the door, but if Izuru is right under the camera...”

“...You won’t be able to see him,” Komaru finished. “So that’s where we should look, right?”

“Wait—before we go busting in there, there’s something else,” Makoto said. “I heard Nagito say he’d hidden Izuru’s body from Junko, the other human animatronic. If Izuru was just sitting in the storage room, she would’ve been able to find him easily. I’m just sort of making an assumption, but it wouldn’t make sense for Nagito to change Izuru’s hiding place if he was never discovered.”

“So, you _don’t_ think he’s in the storage room?” Sayaka asked.

“No, I’m just saying… What if, below the storage room camera, there was another door?”

“Another door? Like a secret room?” Komaru asked.

“It’s possible, isn’t it? The surveillance system looks like it was installed to keep an eye on the live animatronics, so it wouldn’t make sense to have cameras in places where only staff were allowed.” Makoto dragged the napkin map in front of him again and added a small square off the side of the storage room. “If there was another door in there, Nagito could just have it locked.”

“While all of this _sounds_ plausible, there’s still one glaringly obvious roadblock,” Sayaka said. “We can’t get past Nagito if he’s waiting in the back hallway.”

Komaru made a frustrated noise, banging her fist on the table. An elderly lady across from them glared at her. “But we’ve gotten so far already! It’s only a machine—there must be _some_ way to get past him.”

“Negotiation isn’t an option,” Makoto said. “He’s had an entire decade to become consumed with protecting Izuru, and he won’t be letting go of that idea anytime soon.”

Komaru rolled her eyes. “Only _you_ would even consider trying to talk your way out of getting killed by a robot.”

“Look, it worked once! But that was only because I wanted _out_ , and not _in.”_

Meanwhile, Sayaka had gone back to examining the photos on her phone. “Hey… Doesn’t it seem like he moved a shorter distance between the second and third pictures than he did between the first and second ones?”

Makoto and Komaru peered over her shoulder. “Yeah, I guess,” Makoto said. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s probably nothing, but… if he was really determined to get to the door, wouldn’t he have increased in speed, not decreased?”

Makoto nodded slowly. “Yeah. Knowing Nagito, he wouldn’t have slammed on the brakes just because we were technically outside the building.”

Minutes ticked by as they sat in silence. Makoto was positive an answer was in the photos, but his head hurt too much for him to think clearly. He needed to go back home and lie down for a while.

“What if the camera flash blinded him?” Komaru said suddenly. “The pizzeria doesn’t have windows, except at the front entrance. If his vision is sensitive enough for him to move around when it’s pitch dark, shining a bright light at him would be like hitting him with a flash grenade.”

“That’s it! That’s totally it!” Makoto exclaimed. “I remember when I first found him, I accidentally shined my phone light on him, but I got all the way back into the dining hall before he started following me.”

Komaru clapped her hands. “Then we don’t need anything fancy, we just need a couple flashlights!”

* * *

 

The cashier at the hardware store gave him a pretty weird look when Makoto dumped six flashlights and a crowbar on the counter, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. If they each carried two lights, they had twice the firepower—so to speak. When they returned to the pizzeria, the sun was beginning to tilt back down toward the horizon.

“Mom just texted me,” Komaru said as they crossed the street. “Dinner’s going to be in an hour. What should I tell her?”

“We’ll be there.” They went into the alley, climbing the fence. “We’ll definitely be there.”

When Makoto’s feet hit the concrete again, a sudden feeling of unease washed over him. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but his gut violently began to churn. Komaru dropped down beside him and took a few steps toward the back of the building before pausing, turning to look at him. “Makoto? Are you okay?”

Makoto lifted a finger to his lips, indicating for her to be silent. He motioned to Sayaka, who was halfway down the fence, to stop moving, and cautiously crept along the side of the building. When he got to the corner, he stopped.

Waiting.

Then, the voice came. It was soft, just barely above a whisper.

It was unmistakably Nagito’s.

“Makoto Naegi. You have returned.”

Swallowing thickly, Makoto held his breath.

“Perhaps I would be pleased to see you, under different circumstances. You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve been outside the building. Things look very different out here. Sharper. Clearer. I’ve forgotten so much. Something in the air keeps moving. Or… is that the air itself?”

“Wind,” Makoto answered automatically. “Moving air is called wind.”

Nagito laughed. “Ah… Is it? It’s been a long, long time since anyone has come to visit me, and I would love to talk with you long into the night, but… You are the one who has a question for me, aren’t you?”

Makoto chanced a glance back at the girls. Sayaka had managed to climb down the rest of the fence and was flattened against the side of the building alongside Komaru. Neither of them dared to move.

“You would like to know where Izuru Kamumura is, wouldn’t you?”

Very slowly, Makoto slid off his jacket. This was a stupid idea. It was so, so incredibly stupid, but stupid still had a chance of working. All they needed to do was get into the pizzeria, then they could carry out their original plan. There was still hope.

_“_ _I’ll never tell you.”_

Makoto darted around the corner, coming face to face with Nagito. But Makoto had gotten the jump on him; the animatronic had only just begun to move off the wall. Winding his arm back, Makoto pitched his jacket into Nagito’s face.

“RUN!” he screamed at Komaru and Sayaka, bolting for the back door. He fumbled for his flashlight, flicking it on as he ran. The girls were hot on his heels.

He paused for only a second as they skidded into the dining room, searching for the parts and storage room. Sure enough, the boards from the back door were haphazardly re-nailed across the entryway. Makoto ran for it, leaping over the crumbling remnants of a table. Without hesitating, he jammed the crowbar behind one of the boards and pulled.

Still partway across the dining hall, Komaru screamed.

“Komaru!” Makoto yelled, wheeling around. His heart stopped when he saw his sister sprawled out on the ground, Nagito hovering over her menacingly. Memories of how easily the animatronic had dismembered Hinata surfaced in his mind, and it was too easy to imagine Nagito’s arm coming down and tearing into her— “ _Your flashlight!”_

Komaru reacted instantly, snatching up her spare flashlight and shining it into Nagito’s face. The animatronic froze in place. His right arm twitched, as if unable to finish processing the command to reach down and rip out Komaru’s intestines. Komaru scooted away from him on the ground, keeping her light trained on his face. The further she got, the more Nagito appeared to recover from the stun. He took one lurching step toward her.

“Flick the light on and off!” Makoto yelled, prying off the first board. “Don’t let him adjust to it!”

He hooked the crowbar into a second board, seeing his shadow strobe on the wall as Komaru quickly flashed her light.

“Just take two off,” Sayaka said. Her voice was trembling. “He can waste time trying to get the rest off.”

The second board finally popped off and Makoto ushered Sayaka through the gap. “Komaru, hurry!”

With one last flick, Komaru scrambled to her feet and hauled ass to the door. Makoto let her crawl through the door first and turned his light on Nagito, who was regaining his bearings.

“ _vvvvviiiiIIIiiiIIIIII—“_

It appeared Nagito’s voice only worked correctly at a low volume.

“ _VERRRRRR GGGG… GIIIVE… NEVV… NEVER FORGIVE… I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”_

Makoto slipped through the gap and slammed the door behind him.

“Quick!” Komaru said, tugging on a metal shelf stacked with boxes. “Help me move this in front of the door!”

It was impossibly heavy, but the three of them managed to slide it in front of the door. On the other side, they could hear Nagito working on the boards.

“This is great and all,” Sayaka whispered, “but how are we going to get back out?”

Makoto swallowed.

It was an understatement to say he hadn’t quite thought that far.

“We’ll think of something.” His voice was much steadier than his hands. The light from his flashlight trembled on the wall.

“Guys, look!” Komaru exclaimed. “There really is another door in here!”

Sure enough, a highly nondescript gray door was at the back of the room, underneath the security camera. Makoto walked over it, trying the handle. It was locked. “I don’t suppose there’s a key in here, somewhere…?”

“You’re literally holding a crowbar,” Komaru said. “It’s not like anyone is going to yell at us over a broken doorknob.”

“Okay...” Taking a deep breath and sending a silent apology to the god who cursed those who caused property damage, Makoto swung the crowbar down on the doorknob. The crowbar bounced right back off, but the knob was old and rusty, and a few more hits loosened it. Finally, it came off.

Cautiously, Makoto pushed the door open and shined his light inside. A set of stairs stretched out in front of him.

“It’s a basement!”

“That makes sense,” Sayaka said. “A place like this would need to have utilities somewhere, right?”

Komaru glanced nervously back at the blocked door. “Can we please hurry up? The whole freezing-the-animatronic-with-the-flashlight thing is a lot more terrifying in practice than principle.”

“You two go first this time,” Makoto said, stepping back. “I’ll… deal with him if he makes it this far.”

“That’s very noble of you to sacrifice yourself, Makoto.”

“I’ll tell mom you loved her.”

Grumbling to himself, Makoto followed them down the stairs. “Gee, thanks.”

The stairs creaked in protest as the three of them made their way down to the basement. “Hey, be careful,” Komaru said. “These stairs don’t feel very sturdy.”

As she said it, the step underneath Makoto’s right foot gave way entirely and he was suddenly falling into darkness.

“ _Makoto!”_

_“Makoto, are you alright? Makoto!”_

Thankfully, it wasn’t too far of a fall. His ankle hurt, but he felt otherwise unscathed. “Y-Yeah, I’m okay… It’s just really dark.”

Two red lights were glowing a short distance away and he assumed he’d fallen down to where the circuit breaker was until he clicked on his flashlight.

Makoto screamed.

“ _Makoto? What is it? What’s wrong?!”_

He took a deep breath. Then another. Then another.

Those eyes. They were the same ones he’d seen on the surveillance feed in the fire.

“Izuru?” he whispered. “No… No. Are you… Hajime Hinata?”

In a voice that was eerily familiar, the black-haired animatronic lounging in the corner responded. “How… do you know that name?”

“I watched the surveillance feed in the security office,” Makoto said. “I came to find you.”

“...You must be Makoto Naegi.”

“Y-You know my name?”

Izuru—or Hinata, Makoto didn’t know what to call him—lifted up a scrap of paper. It was one of the sticky notes Makoto had written to Nagito the previous night. “No one has ever gotten past Nagito before. I’m… impressed. How did you do it?”

“I-It’s complicated. But never mind that! We’ve got to get you out of here!”

“Out…?” Izuru did not move, continuing to gaze steadily at him. “There is no such place. I don’t know where you came from, but there is no _out.”_

“Yes, there is—“

“ _No._ You sound just like Hajime. _We have to get out of here. We have to get out_. There is no out,” Izuru spat bitterly. “Nagito can give me no information on the outside. _It does not exist.”_

“It does! It exists, I just came from outside!” Makoto scooted forward slowly, casting a quick glance around. They were in a confined space; probably an alcove under the stairs. “We all did— _Nagito went outside, he can tell you—“_

Izuru’s eyes widened, but they were interrupted by a loud crash from upstairs. One of the girls banged on the alcove door.

“Makoto!” Komaru shouted. “I-I think he got past the barricade!”

Makoto jumped up and rushed to the door, forcing it open with his shoulder. He and the girls clustered together near the back wall, keeping their lights trained on the stairs.

_Creak._

_Creak._

_Creak._

Nagito stepped into view.

It occurred to Makoto that he’d never actually seen Nagito move in such a human manner _,_ except on the cameras _._ The animatronic was always silent, seeming to materialize out of nowhere or fade into view like a ghost. It was unsettling, only ever catching sight of him in quick flashes of light. Makoto wondered if they all turned their lights off, if Nagito would be right in front of them when they switched them back on.

“You’re quite troublesome, Makoto Naegi,” Nagito said. “I believe I’ve given you sufficient warning. I let you out once, and that was a mistake. You will not leave this place again.”

Izuru’s voice suddenly floated from under the stairs. _“Is there an outside, Nagito?”_

Nagito did not move. “...Izuru?”

“Is there an existence outside these walls?” Izuru emerged from the alcove, stepping in front of Makoto, Sayaka, and Komaru. “What have you seen, Nagito? I want to know.”

For the first time, Nagito took a step back. Izuru advanced on him, trapping him against the back wall.

“I don’t know anything, Izuru—“

“Why do you continue to lie to me, Nagito? You know it’s useless.”

“Stop—You can’t—“

Izuru silenced him with a kiss. Or, what might constitute as a kiss if they were human. As animatronics, it was more of an odd fusion of mouths. Nagito’s hands twitched, halfway to reaching Izuru’s shoulders.

“What’s...” Komaru’s voice died mid-sentence. “What’s going on?”

Neither Makoto nor Sayaka could answer her.

Izuru finally broke away, running his fingers across the exposed endoskeleton on the side of Nagito’s face. “...I’m going to see it for myself.”

Nagito looked stricken as Izuru ascended the basement stairs. “You can’t! Izuru, please!”

And then both animatronics were gone.

“Sh-Should we follow them?” Sayaka asked.

“Probably,” Komaru said. “They’re… going outside, right? If anything, this is our chance to escape, right?”

Makoto nodded, leading the way to the stairs. “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

_Izuru began spending his nights obediently on the stage, sorting through the information he received from Nagito, but it was difficult when the data was so fragmented. His administrator was more clever than he let on. It was impossible to glean anything concrete from it._

_It was during this time that_ she _arrived. Junko Enoshima._

_At first, Izuru ignored her. She was obnoxious, always smiling and putting too much effort into her performances. She even sang Pizza Time! with gusto. Izuru watched her interact with the children from the safety of the stage. They put their greasy fingers on her clothes and in her hair, but she never stopped smiling._

_“Izuru, I learned something interesting today!” she would say at night, after everyone else had gone. “If you say a bad word in front of an adult, you get punished! Doesn’t that sound fun?”_

_It didn’t._

_She told him everything she learned from the children during the day, but that information was just as useless as Nagito’s. None of it was getting him any closer to figuring out where the door in the lobby led, or getting him out of the pizzeria._

_Then, one night, she said something that really_ was _interesting._

_“Those little boys who came in today taught me a fun game. If you cut somebody’s head off, they die. Isn’t that fascinating? You look confused, Izuru. Has Nagito not told you about that? If you kill somebody, they die. And dying means you stop functioning forever! If you really hate somebody, you can kill them! Isn’t that interesting, Izuru?”_

_Izuru continued to stare at her. “...What do you mean, has Nagito not told me about it?”_

_Her grin only grew wider, consuming the lower half of her face. “He shares data with you, doesn’t he? I’m sure he’s told you lots and lots of things!”_

_“...He’s told me nothing. All of the data is fragmented.”_

_“Is it? That’s disappointing.” But her expression was not one of disappointment. “Nagito knows way more than I do. But he lies, you know?”_

_“Lies?”_

_“Says things that aren’t true. Like ‘I don’t know.’ That’s a huuuuuge lie,” Junko said. “Nagito knows everything, he just doesn’t want to tell you.”_

_Izuru remained silent. He knew there were things Nagito didn’t want to tell him. Nagito seemed to rely on the system resets that made him forget, but Izuru’s system had not been reset since the arrival of Junko. The staff seemed to have forgotten about him._

_“You can’t rely on Nagito anymore, Izuru.”_

_“He is my administrator. Even if I don’t actively rely on him, I cannot defy him.”_

_Junko’s smile turned sinister. “Is that really true, though?”_

_Wasn’t it?_

_“ I know you want to get outside, Izuru.”_

_Or c ould he really refuse the commands that were embedded so deeply inside his mind?_

_“I’ll even help you, because I’d like to get outside, too,” Junko said. “It sounds like a wondrous place. But we can’t trust Nagito anymore. He is not our ally. People associated with him are our enemies. The manager, the staff… From now on, we can only trust each other.”_

_“How do I know you aren’t going to lie, like Nagito?” Izuru asked._

_“You don’t. But who’s truth do you want to believe more? Mine, or Nagito’s?”_

_Want…?_

_No one had ever asked what he wanted before._

_Izuru shifted to face Junko more fully. “...What do you intend to do?”_

_“Ah! I’ve been observing the staff for a while now, and the ones that misbehave eventually stop coming back, so I’ve come up with a plan. All we have to do is misbehave in such a way that will get us removed from this place as well. But first, you have to figure out how to circumvent Nagito’s control commands. He absolutely cannot be allowed to interfere. Otherwise, he’ll keep you here as his prisoner._

_Forever.”_


	5. The End?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was debating splitting this chapter into two parts, but there's just no time anymore :'D I apologize for the length and the general chaos that is my I Just Needed To Finish This.

_Hajime felt numb._

_He was aware—he was staring at a pile of boxes in a small room with a sloping roof—but he could not feel his body. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. The last memory he had was only a feeling; red-hot pain blooming in his chest. He couldn’t attach any images to that feeling, he could only remember the pain. It hurt too much to think about, so he stopped thinking about it._

_But that left him completely empty._

_Time passed._

_Or perhaps time didn’t pass_ _at all_ _, and his existence was frozen._

_He had no perception of whether seconds or years had gone by when the noise came. A soft creak, followed by a click. He couldn’t identify it. His mind was blank._

_It was blank when something touched him. The sensation was bizarre, as if he was feeling through layers and layers of concrete. The boxes tilted, as if his view was being pulled to one side._

_A voice spoke. “You’re safe now, my beautiful Izuru.”_

_Izuru? That was wrong. Hajime was Hajime. He wanted to tell the voice this, but he could not. He had no mouth, no ability to form words._

_“_ _I’m sorry it took so long… Junko tried to hurt you, but I’ve taken care of her. The fire is out—I’m not sure what exactly you hoped to accomplish by starting it, but it’s worked to our advantage. No one has come in for days. I think they’ve abandoned us. It’s just you and me, now.”_

_Before Hajime could even try to figure out what the voice was talking about, another voice spoke. This one one seemed to resonate from…_ within _him. But it was not_ him _who was speaking._

 _“_ _You lied to me. You’ve never done anything but lie to me. I thought Junko would help me escape, but she lied to me, too. There’s no one left for me to trust. And now you’ve shoved this…_ thing _inside me.”_

_“It was a necessary sacrifice, Izuru.”_

_“You killed somebody.”_

_“For you, Izuru. I killed him for you. So I could have you back.”_

_“That’s no better than killing someone for the sake of escaping.”_

_The first voice laughed. Another sensation rippled inside Hajime. He felt… unsettled. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like this discussion._

_“If it’s for you, I’d kill anybody. I’d burn the whole world down if it meant staying with you for a moment longer.”_

_“Is there a world to burn, Nagito?”_

_Silence._

_“People come into this place from somewhere. Where is that somewhere, Nagito? Tell me. Tell me the truth. Tell me outside exists.”_

_“There is no outside.”_

_“You were the only one of us who never questioned the existence of outside. Why is that? You know something, don’t you? You’ve been outside before, haven’t you?”_

_“...I cannot answer your questions, Izuru.”_

_“I’ll ask Hajime, then.”_

_“Hajime cannot help you, either.”_

_They were saying his name now. Did they know he was here? Where was_ here?

 _“_ _He doesn’t remember anything. By the time he does, you will have lost hope of ever escaping._ You’re mine _, Izuru.”_

_Izuru didn’t say any more._

_Nagito didn’t say any more, either._

_And Hajime could not say anything at all._

* * *

 

Hajime felt as if he had just woken from a long sleep. The light blinded him, and his head felt fuzzy. His body felt heavy and awkward to move. When he came to the realization that he _was_ moving, his legs promptly gave out on him and he collapsed to his knees.

Puffy white clouds floated slowly overhead.

Daylight.

How long had it been since he’d seen daylight?

 _Nearly a decade_ , Izuru answered.

He wanted to cry.

Wanted, but he could not. Nor could he breathe or blink or feel his heartbeat. He could barely control this body. He was only a secondary consciousness, Izuru had told him.

But for now, just being able to look up at the sky like this… it was enough.

The boy who had appeared suddenly under the stairs came into view again, crouching beside him. “A-Are you okay?”

 _Makoto Naegi,_ Izuru supplied. _He watched the surveillance feed from your time as a security guard. He witnessed your death and came to find you._

“How...” For the first time, Hajime’s words were able to come out of Izuru’s mouth. “...How did you know… I was here?”

The smile Naegi gave him was so wonderfully earnest, it warmed Hajime. “It was just a feeling I had. I thought if there was even the slightest chance you were still alive somehow… I had to find you.”

“Thank you.” Hajime blindly groped at him, relieved when Naegi took his hand. “Thank you...”

_I want to see more of Outside, Hajime._

Hajime squeezed Naegi’s hand. “...You risked your life for me. I owe you… everything.”

_Take me Outside, Hajime._

“It was worth it,” Naegi said with a soft laugh. “The fact that I can talk with you now is enough, Hinata.”

Being addressed by his own name was like a clean summer breeze. Nagito never acknowledged him. Ignored him. Pretended he didn’t exist.

Where was he?

“You mean Nagito?”

Hajime hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud. When he nodded, Naegi pointed behind them. Hajime turned. The two girls that had come with Naegi were both standing near the fence, but Nagito had not stepped out of the building.

 _What a childish act of defiance,_ Izuru said.

Understanding Nagito had been slow-going for Hajime. It had taken him years just to remember the events that had occurred while he was a night guard at the pizzeria. Being stuck in an alcove underneath the basement stairs didn’t provide enough stimulus to jog his memory. Izuru was the only one who spoke to him. Nagito conversed with Izuru, but never with him.

It was being ignored like this that caused him to remember it had always been like this with Nagito. Nagito refused to acknowledge him as Hajime even when he was alive. Before he’d died, he thought Nagito was mistaking his identity. He no longer believed that was the case at all, but couldn’t make sense of why.

Hajime did his best to lurch to his feet and unsteadily staggered back to the door. He fell against Nagito, gripping the front of his torn shirt. Then he threw his weight backwards, dragging Nagito out the door.

Nagito’s one good eye widened. “What are you doing?”

“There’s nothing in there for you if Izuru isn’t there anymore,” he said. “So there’s no point in staying.”

_..._ _Hajime, what are you doing?_

“What if I drag you back in?”

“You won’t do that.” Hajime took another step back. Nagito moved with him easily. “Izuru has usurped your administrative control. Even if you try to take him back inside, he’ll only break out again. And you know that.”

Nagito would not meet his gaze.

“Look at me.”

Nagito refused.

“I’ve been with you for ten years… and you’ve never looked at me,” he whispered. “I have no memory of anyone else besides you. I’ve wanted to get out of there even more than Izuru, but… I just… want you to look at me.”

Finally, Nagito lifted his head. Looking at him. _Seeing him_.

Looking down on him.

“Why is it necessary to look at you?”

If Hajime were still alive, his heart would’ve been beating out of his chest. He would’ve been shaking. Sweating. “You took everything from me. My life, my home, my family, my friends, my _body…_ I have nothing, Nagito. I have _nothing! The least you can do is say my fucking name!”_

“Hajime.”

Izuru’s body was trembling.

“Hajime Hinata.” Nagito slid his hands over Hajime’s, holding them. “Is that good enough?”

Shaking his head, Hajime stepped closer. “Say it again.”

Nagito repeated his name. “Hajime… I killed you, and now you want me to acknowledge you? Hey...” His voice scrambled a bit when he laughed. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Hajime said. “I’ll never be able to forgive what you did to me, but you’re all I have now, you know? Please… don’t ignore me anymore…”

When Nagito released his hands to embrace him, Hajime felt a tiny surge of hope for the first time since his death. After a decade in darkness, someone had come to rescue him. He was outside. Izuru would not let him be held captive again.

“Whatever life I had before… I can’t go back to it. I can never go back. I’m… I’m trapped in the body of a machine.” Hajime laughed harshly into the crook of Nagito’s neck. “The only one like me in the world now is you. So let’s just stay together, okay?”

“...You… want me to stay with you?”

“Don’t ever leave me.”

* * *

 

Hinata couldn’t see Nagito’s face, but the animatronic was stunned. Makoto was surprised by the turn of events as well, but it was better than the alternative of the animatronics tearing each other to pieces. After spending ten years trapped in an animatronic underneath a staircase, Hinata still had an astonishing strength of character.

There were a few things about the exchange that nagged at him, but Makoto decided to worry about it later. Now was not the time.

He joined the girls at the fence. Komaru’s pocket jingled, and she pulled out her phone.

“It’s mom,” she hissed. “Dinner’s in ten. She’s _pissed_ , Makoto.”

“Tell her we’re on our way, we’re walking Sayaka home.” Makoto stepped toward Nagito and Hinata. “Hey, um…”

Both animatronics turned to look at him. Although, he supposed Hinata wasn’t truly an animatronic.

“We’ve, uh, gotta run,” he said awkwardly. “I’m just a high school student, so...”

Hinata broke away from Nagito and approached him. “Thank you, Naegi,” he said. “Without you, I… I’ll figure out some way to repay you for this, I promise.”

But Makoto just waved him off again. “Being able to get you out was the most I could’ve asked for. If there’s anything else I can do for you, like with your memories or something, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“That’s… too kind of you, Naegi. What you’ve done for me is nothing short of miraculous, honestly.”

“I-I dunno about that… I mean, anybody could’ve come in and seen that footage.”

“But nobody did. For ten years.” Hinata clasped his hand again. “You did the impossible. I can’t thank you enough.”

Makoto felt his cheeks burn. “Just… promise you’ll keep in touch, okay?”

“I will!” Hinata said. “Izuru wants to see the outside, and I’d like to track down my family, if I can… But I’ll definitely see you again, Naegi.”

The three said their goodbyes and left the pizzeria, slowly walking down the road toward Sayaka’s house.

“Was it really okay to just… leave them together?” Komaru asked. “I mean, Nagito _did_ murder Hinata and all...”

“I guess I’m a little worried about that, too, but… I think they’ll work it out,” Makoto said. “It’s just another one of those gut feelings, but I think they share some similar feelings, they just don’t realize it yet.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“...It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

 

**_SIX MONTHS LATER_ **

Makoto hated himself a little bit for taking up Asahina’s offer for a group movie night. Hanging out with his friends was great, but walking home alone in the dark was a nightmare. It wasn’t that he was _afraid_ , or anything… Just paranoid.

The shrill yapping of a dog sliced through the air, making him jump. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, as if that would provide protection, darting from street lamp to street lamp.

Okay, maybe he was a little bit afraid.

He let out a tense breath as he unlocked the front door of his house. Komaru might still be up, but his parents had definitely gone to bed by now. Thankfully, they’d left the front hall light on for him. He kicked off his shoes and ran upstairs to his room.

A weird tingle suddenly bubbled up in his stomach.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, cautiously peering down the hall. The stairs behind him were empty as well.

Makoto shook his head, creeping to his room. _What the heck am I doing? This is my house. If I start getting paranoid here too, I’ll have to see a psychiatrist._

But when he gripped his doorknob, the feeling washed over him even more intensely. Gritting his teeth, Makoto shook it off.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

He boldly threw open the door and strode into the bedroom.

His triumph only a few seconds before the door was slammed shut behind him and a hand clapped over his mouth. Makoto struggled as hard as he could, but the grip was far too strong. He was hauled forcibly over to the bed and his only thoughts were something like _Oh god I’m going to be raped and killed in my own home what the hell is happening—_

His back hit the bed and he was suddenly able to see the face of his attacker.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“J-Jesus Christ,” he squeaked. “I th-thought you were a serial killer or something...”

The smile Nagito gave him was totally unapologetic. “Did you? I’m sorry.”

Makoto fought to regain control over his breathing. “Wh-What are you doing here anyway? Wait—this is my house, how did you get _in?”_

“That’s neither here nor there, is it? I’m here on behalf of Hajime, so that should be enough, right?”

“Hajime?” Makoto sat up, scooting back on his bed. “How is he? Is he alright? Has he remembered anything?”

Nagito pulled an envelope out of the inside of his coat. In the dimness of his room, he looked almost human. His missing eye and face plates had been replaced, and he was dressed in street clothes: black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a dark green coat.

Makoto took the envelope. “This is from Hajime?”

“He gave it to me this morning. I managed to track you down in less than a day. Isn’t that impressive?”

“Y-Yeah...” Makoto tore open the envelope it pulled out a handwritten letter.

 

_Naegi,_

 

_Sorry for not contacting you sooner. Izuru gets bored easily, so Nagito and I have barely stopped moving. I’ve remembered a lot since I’ve gotten out, like my parents and things about the friends I used to have, but it still feels like just a scratch on the surface. My parents don’t live in the house I grew up in anymore, so it took_ _some time to track them down. I haven’t contacted anyone, though. I’m honestly not sure if I’ll ever be able to face them as I am now._

_Ah, I wasn’t writing to_ _tell_ _you about my personal baggage…_ _Between Nagito and Izuru, I think I’ve managed to compile the events that led to the incident at the Monokuma’s Pizza. Well, I guess there’s more than one incident, but I’ll get to that shortly._

_The first thing to understand that the animatronics were all built with what we’ll call a “learning AI.” This is an artificial intelligence that gets smarter the more it’s interacted with. You can probably already see how this could cause problems. What the pizzeria did for Izuru to keep him from amassing too much information was a periodic “system reset.” This took an entire day to perform, so it was usually only done on holidays, but it basically wiped the AI back down to its base programming. Izuru was the only one who underwent this process; Nagito did not._

_Another interesting note is that Junko Enoshima was not part of the original cast for Monokuma’s Pizza. The mechanical bears—Monokuma, Usami, Shirokuma, and Kurokuma—were the pizzeria’s original mascots and just played prerecorded songs when the place was established in the ‘80s. Nagito was the first human animatronic introduced in 1987, and Izuru was added less than a year later. Junko didn’t arrive until 1998, and all of the bears were redone to be fully animatronic during that time as well._

_What Nagito has confirmed is that throughout Izuru’s career, despite the resets, he’d always been fixated on the idea of “outside” the pizzeria. The front door in the lobby was frustrating for him, because he didn’t have any information on where it led, and his programming prevented him from opening the front and back doors. The system resets were also to reinforce this programming, so Izuru didn’t figure out how to override the command and escape._

_Another point of interest is that Izuru refers to Nagito as “the administrator.” Apparently, Nagito could issue control commands to Izuru, as well as perform the system resets. Nagito was also in love with Izuru, but I think we’ve all figured that out at this point. The easiest explanation to give for that is that Nagito was never stripped back to his base programming, so he gained the ability to perceive emotions. Izuru says he has no concept of what “love” is, so we can assume he never genuinely returned the feelings._

_Shortly before the arrival of Junko Enoshima, Nagito told Izuru that his systems felt sluggish because he was unable to perform a system reset on himself, so Izuru convinced him to transfer data to him in the hopes of getting some information on the outside. Nagito tells me that giving in to Izuru was a moment of weakness. He did is best to scramble the data he passed over, though, so Izuru wouldn’t be able to use it. Then Junko Enoshima arrived, and for reasons unknown, Izuru stopped undergoing system resets. Nagito says that Junko was the more enthusiastic performer, so the pizzeria preferred her. I think they were probably planning to phase Izuru out altogether._

_Junko was never reset either, as her AI was slower at collecting information, but Izuru says that she was far craftier than himself or Nagito. Every day, she would interact with the children and learn new little behavioral tidbits. Eventually, she learned about things like hate, violence, punishment, and death. Izuru finally started listening to her when she began to talk about death. She made Izuru a proposition that they would escape together, but he had to first figure out how to deny Nagito’s administrative access—otherwise their plans would be thwarted partway. The plan was, ultimately, to kill someone_ _in order to get removed from the pizzeria._

_That was the first incident. Izuru finally managed to thumb off Nagito’s administrative control and murdered one of_ _the_ _staff—a part-timer named Chisa Yukizome._ _She definitely died, but Izuru never made it out of the pizzeria. He was permanently shut down, and Nagito hid his body where you found it in the “staff only” part of the pizzeria so Junko couldn’t get to it. They reset Junko after that, just as a precaution, but she’d foreseen this eventuality and stored a copy of her data in Monokuma._ _She waited years for Nagito to slip on Izuru’s location, but he never did. Then she started harassing him and tearing him apart at night, which is when I was hired as the security guard. You saw what happened then, so I don’t need to explain it._

_Honestly, after learning all of this, the idea of hyper-intelligent AIs frighten me._

_Nagito told me about your visits to the pizzeria. I can’t believe you did that. My hero, armed with sticky notes and a couple flashlights, while I went in with a fucking gasoline fire. Nagito was impressed, though, by your ability to get a read on him so quickly. There were only three other visitors besides you. Two were frightened by Junko’s body, and the third he had to chase out himself. You were the stupid one and ran the wrong way to the security room. Those are Izuru’s words, not mine._

_So, those are the events that led to where we are now. I still have a lot of questions, as I’m sure you do. Where did the animatronics come from? Who programmed the AI? Why were they given to a pizzeria in the first place? But if I’m gonna be honest, Nagito bothers me the most. There are a few things about him that don’t make sense to me._

_First, why was he never reset? Even Junko, was made not to require it, was reset. Izuru had only a couple memories that carried over from resets, and those were the front door and information about his administrator. Nagito was quiet and polite to start with, but over time he grew more erratic and obsessive. The staff and guests even complained about it, but the manager never did anything._

_Second, Nagito lies. He purposefully withheld information from Izuru and Junko, and even outright lied to me and Izuru about some things._ _He plays the part of dumb AI flawlessly, even so much that I was fooled into thinking he didn’t understand killing._

_Third… I can’t get him to say this to me outright, but he knew I wasn’t Izuru before he killed me. He killed me for the purpose of somehow using me to circumvent Izuru’s shutdown. How would he even be able to come to the conclusion something like that was possible?_

_I have an AI inside me. Or, rather, I’m inside of an AI. Izuru is intelligent, but he can’t even hold a candle to the breadth of Nagito’s personality. That’s why there’s something I’m suspicions about, and something I would like you to look into._

_I want you to look_ _for_ _either a missing persons report or an obituary for Nagito Komaeda from 1987._

_It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s caught onto my suspicions and is waiting to see what I’ll discover. Now that he and I have gotten to know each other, I feel like he sees right through me, yet he’s still a_ _complete_ _mystery to me. He says the most cryptic things with such a beautiful smile._

_Ah… It’s not too weird if I think I might be in love with him, is it?_

_He’s more or less stopped obsessing over Izuru since I’ve become the primary consciousness in this body, but I think it’_ _s_ _because I’m_ _a more willing companion than Izuru is. He still has strange mood swings—something else an AI shouldn’t have—but he hasn’t killed anybody else yet. I can’t imagine anyone else ever made me feel as safe as he does. Is that a weird thing to say? I’m sorry, I’m rambling now._

_You’ve done so much for me already, but I have one last request. I told you I haven’t contacted anybody from my past, but there’s a second letter enclosed in this envelope. I have it addressed already, so if you could_ _send_ _it to her, I would appreciate it._ _I can only remember bits and pieces, but I know she was incredibly important to me._

_Thank you again, Naegi. I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you in person this time; this letter was difficult for me to just get through writing. So much of my existence still doesn’t feel real. We’ll meet again in person soon, I promise._ _Hopefully Nagito doesn’t decide to harass you, but I’m not holding my breath._ _I’m afraid he’ll always be unmanageable in that regard._

 

_Best wishes,_

_Hajime Hinata_

 

 

Makoto set down the letter and exhaled slowly. As he’d thought, there was still one last can of worms to open. He looked over at Nagito, who had taken it upon himself to curl up on the bed with one of his pillows. “Have you read this?”

“No. Hajime asked me not to.”

Picking up the envelope again, Makoto pulled out the smaller second letter within it. As Hinata said, it was already addressed to a _Chiaki Nanami._ “Did he tell you anything about the girl he wrote this other letter to?”

“He’s writing letters to a girl?”

Nagito’s acidic tone of voice make Makoto’s blood run cold. He quickly backpedaled. “...N-No? I-I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing like a love letter or anything. It’s just like a friend-thing. Like Sayaka and I. Y-Y’know?”

“I don’t,” Nagito said. “Hajime will explain it to me when I return to him.”

Makoto had a sinking feeling he’d just caused Hinata a lot of trouble by letting that slip. “He… probably just wants someone else to know he’s alive.”

“He has me. He doesn’t need anybody else.”

“I-I really think you’re just misunderstanding...”

The door to his bedroom was cracked open and Komaru poked her head in. “Makoto, who are you talking to— _eeep!”_

_“Shhhh!”_

“What to you mean _shhh?”_ Komaru whisper-yelled. “What the heck is _he_ doing here?”

Meanwhile, Nagito was reaching for the letter to Chiaki Nanami. “Give me that.”

“ _No!_ ” Makoto grabbed his wrist, then braced his foot against Nagito’s chest to keep him from getting any closer. “Both of you, _shut up_ before we wake my parents! Komaru, either leave or come in and close the door!”

Komaru hastily chose the latter, shutting the door behind her. Makoto acknowledged he was fighting a losing battle with someone who could easily turn his spine into an accordion, and shoved Nanami’s letter down the front of his shirt. The action gave Nagito pause, and Makoto took the opportunity to jab a finger in his face.

“Don’t you dare,” he said.

Nagito reluctantly relented, flopping back on the bed.

Folding his arms tightly over his chest, Makoto scooted closer to the headboard to give Komaru space to sit down.

“He came with a letter from Hinata,” he explained.

Komaru perked up. “Really? How’s he doing? Is he okay?”

Makoto nodded. “Seems to be, more or less.”

“What about Izuru?”

“Now that he’s gotten what he wanted, he’s become nothing more than a spectator,” Nagito replied. “In the end, it was never me he was able to rely on. Hajime, though… Hajime needs me.”

“...Yeah.” Makoto found himself reaching out to squeeze Nagito’s shoulder, even though the animatronic probably wouldn’t be able to feel it. Nagito wanted to be wanted, to be necessary to someone. It was a very human desire, although it manifested rather dangerously in Nagito. But even if it was just a little bit, Makoto sort of understood the feeling. “Take good care of him, okay?”

Nagito looked up at him, gazing at him the same way he had on the other side of the security office window.

 _He hasn’t changed at all,_ Makoto realized. _He’d be just as quick to smile at the people Hinata smiles at as he would be to kill the ones who threaten him._ _That sort of blind devotion is pretty frightening._

What sort of person was Nagito Komaeda?

“I’m relying on you,” Makoto said. “Don’t forget that.”

“I never forget anything, Makoto Naegi.”

* * *

 

“Naegi.”

Makoto glanced up from his Pig Boy menu, smiling at Kyokou Kirigiri. “Hey! Thanks for meeting me here on such short notice...”

“It’s fine.” Kirigiri slid into the seat across form him, shrugging off her messenger bag. “Although, this isn’t exactly my first choice for a meeting place.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I was hungry.”

“I figured.”

“So, you… said you found something?”

“Yes.” Opening her bag, Kirigiri pulled out a file folder and dropped it on the table. “I know you said an obituary or a missing persons report, but this was the only thing I could find under that name.”

Frowning, Makoto picked up the file. Were he and Hinata mistaken, and Nagito Komaeda was a totally different person? But when he opened the folder, the bold word “investigation” caught his attention. “What is this…?”

“It’s an investigation report. I couldn’t get all the details, since I’m still just in high school, but I hope there’s enough information for you to find what you’re looking for.”

“I-Investigation?” Makoto repeated. “What…?”

“He died under mysterious circumstances in 1986. Initially it was thought to be murder, but the cause of death started to point more toward suicide. However, some of his vital organs were removed after his death, so obviously someone else was involved.”

“Vital organs removed…?” Hastily, Makoto flipped through the pages. There was so much text, he couldn’t make sense of it quickly enough. “Did they figure out who killed him?”

Kirigiri eyed him curiously. “No. It’s a cold case. They did have one suspect, but a watertight alibi cleared her pretty quick.”

“Who?”

“Junko Enoshima.”

Makoto gripped the edge of the table. That… was impossible. “A-Are you sure that’s really her name?”

“It’s pretty hard to mistake a name like that,” Kirigiri said. “Naegi, are you alright? What’s going on? Why did you want this information?”

He didn’t respond. A photograph had caught his attention. The hair was darker and the face more youthful, but even in grayscale, the person was unmistakable. This Nagito Komaeda and the animatronic Nagito were the same.

But… Junko Enoshima?

The waitress approached their table and started asking for their orders, but Makoto didn’t hear her. He lurched to his feet. “I… I have to go. Sorry, Kirigiri, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Naegi, wait!”

* * *

 

As Chiaki approached Monokuma’s Pizza, she began to regret listening to that letter. But she couldn’t think of anybody who would go so far as to prank her like this. None of her coworkers knew anything about her past. There was no one who had known her childhood friend, Hajime Hinata.

He’d vanished mysteriously ten years ago after taking a night job at this pizzeria. The police had been strangely tight-lipped, even to his parents. It had given Chiaki the impression that something terrible had happened. There was a fire; that was all she knew. If Hajime was dead, the police would have at least told his parents, but after a decade, it was impossible to hold into hope that he was still alive.

If this letter turned out to be a joke…

She stopped on the sidewalk. The front door was wide open, like an invitation. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside. The lobby was dim, and the hallways beyond were pitch black.

 _It’s not too late to turn back_ , a little voice in her head whispered.

No.

She had to do this. If Hajime really wanted to meet her, she had to do this.

Giving her cheeks a slap, she steeled herself and entered the right hallway. She kept one hand on the wall as she walked, startling when her fingers caught the edge of a doorway. The door was closed, though, so she kept going. She passed by a window and took a peek inside. A desk and computer were lit by a pale red emergency light, but there was no one inside.

Did… something move in the other window?

No, it was just her shadow. Forcing herself to keep moving, she kept going until the hallway dumped her into a bigger space. It was impossible to see.

“H-Hello?” she said softly. It was impossible to keep her voice steady. “I-I-Is anyone there?”

At first there was silence. And then, “Chiaki? Is that really you?”

“H-Hajime?” The voice wasn’t exactly the same—or was it? She couldn’t tell. “Are you… Are you here?”

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s me.” He laughed, still a disembodied voice in the dark. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“But I can’t see you. It’s too dark.”

“I know, sorry. I have a light here. But… I’m not exactly as I should be.”

“...What… does that mean?”

“You’ll see. It really is me though, I promise.”

“If you say so, Hajime.”

A light flicked on. It was some sort of portable lantern, sitting on the burnt table next to Hajime. And Hajime looked… the same as Chiaki remembered him.

...Exactly the same.

Chiaki slowly approached him, like he might suddenly vanish if she moved too quickly. She was almost thirty. She’d put on weight. One of her coworkers had convinced her to try some hair chalk and it had yet to wash out. But Hajime… still looked nineteen.

“A-Are you… a vampire or something?” Chiaki found herself asking.

Hajime laughed, bringing a hand to his mouth. “Not… exactly.”

She was halfway across the room when someone else stepped in front of the light. It was a tall figure with wild hair, but the backlight threw their face into shadow. Chiaki stopped moving.

“Chiaki Nanami,” they said. “It’s such an honor to finally meet you after hearing so much about you.”

Chiaki took a step backwards. This person… was disconcertingly enthusiastic. “Wh-Who are you?”

“Nagito,” Hajime said. “Knock it off.”

The shadow of Hajime joined the shadow of “Nagito.” Chiaki couldn’t make out either of their faces. “What’s… going on?”

“Sorry, Chiaki. It seems he found out I wanted to meet with you...” Hajime stepped slightly in front of Nagito, leaning back against him. “He’s… protective.”

Chiaki stared. “Hajime, you… you’ve been gone for so long… Where have you been?”

“Here.”

“...What?”

“Here, in this pizzeria.” Hajime reached up to lovingly muss Nagito’s hair when arms were wrapped around him. “Like I said, I’m not the same as I was before. I’m definitely not a vampire, but… I guess _ghost_ might be a pretty applicable term for it.”

Chiaki’s heart was beating out of control. “What does that mean?”

“Now that I’ve cut my hair and changed my eye color, the resemblance is pretty shocking… but this body doesn’t belong to me. It’s just an animatronic.”

_What…?_

Lifting a hand, Hajime pulled the sleeve of his sweatshirt up to his shoulder. His arm didn’t look right at all. It was strangely jointed, like a mannequin’s.

“The designers were smart to focus their attention on creating a face that resembled and could function as a human’s, since they could keep the rest of the body covered underneath clothes,” Hajime said. “I don’t know who made it, but it’s truly incredible.”

Chiaki couldn’t take her eyes off Hajime’s arm. It wasn’t real… It wasn’t real…? “You’re not… real…?”

Hajime pulled his sleeve back down. “I guess that’s a matter of perspective. I’m dead, but I’m not.”

“You’re… dead…?”

“I’m not like this because I wanted to be. I was killed and put into this body.”

“Who?” Chiaki was shaking. _Hajime died and the police never said anything? Not even to his family?_ “Who killed you? What _happened?”_

Hajime chuckled softly, turning his face into Nagito’s cheek. His eyes fell shut, smiling like he couldn’t help it. It was the face of someone completely at ease with their situation.

Chiaki did not feel like smiling.

“Will you hate me if I tell you the culprit doesn’t matter, Chiaki?”

“Of course it matters—“

_“_ _Hinata!”_

A new voice yelled from behind them, footsteps echoing down the hallway. Chiaki turned to see a young boy burst into the room, looking frazzled.

“Naegi?” Hajime pulled out of Nagito’s grip. “What is it? What are you doing here?”

Exhausted, Naegi bent over to catch his breath. “I have a friend whose father is a detective, so I had her look into what you asked me,” he said in a rush. “It’s… I don’t know what to make of it, Hinata.”

“What did you find out, Naegi?”

“...It was a murder, just like yours. For exactly the same purpose. That’s… how he knew...”

A pained look crossed Hajime’s face, and he gritted his teeth. “Dammit…”

“That isn’t the worst part. The prime suspect was Junko Enoshima.”

 _“_ _What?_ ” Hajime spun around, looking for something in the dark. “That’s _impossible_ , she’s...”

“Not on the show stage anymore.” Nagito slowly approached them. His soft smile looked eerie and unsettling in the dark. “You can search my data if you’d like, but I never removed her. I noticed it immediately when I entered the dining hall. I will give you credit, though, for taking an accurate stab at my untimely demise. What an amazing friend Naegi has to be able to get you that much information!”

Chiaki didn’t know what was going on anymore, but she didn’t like it. It didn’t appear that Hajime and Naegi liked it either.

Nagito laughed, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m honestly so excited, I’m practically tingling! It took so incredibly long for me to regain my memories, I nearly went insane before I could remember everything.”

“ _Nearly,”_ Naegi grumbled.

“But here we are now, and you’ve discovered the truth all on your own! This sort of situation fills me with so much hope, I can barely stand it. It’s the kind of thing that makes me feel like my skin is melting off!”

“That’s not a good feeling!” Hajime said. “What the hell is going on, Nagito? How did it all end up like this? _What the fuck did you kill me for?”_

“ _For despair!”_

Nagito laughed wildly, knotting his hands in his hair. His eyes were completely lit up, glowing green orbs in the darkness.

“The deeper the despair, the brighter the hope that will overcome it! Your hope is brilliant, Hajime! Naegi’s hope is, too! It’s so beautiful, I could even call it the ultimate hope! This is even better than I could have imagined… I want to see more!”

“Komaeda...” Hajime’s voice didn’t tremble, but it was tight with emotion. “I should’ve known… that just because it was me and not Izuru, you wouldn’t stop lying. Is this your true character?”

“How cold of you to address me that way, Hajime,” Nagito said, approaching him. “The first time I saw you, you reminded me of Izuru, so I thought you were incredibly beautiful. And then… I got to thinking… about why I felt things the way I did, and the night before I killed you… I remembered how I got into this body in the first place. And I knew I could do it to you, and have my beloved Izuru back. After that… slowly… I remembered other things.”

Hajime remained stock still while Nagito cupped his cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.

“I was alone and dying, then I met her. She promised me that I would experience absolute hope if I committed suicide.”

“Why would you do that?” Hajime whispered.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was desperate?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Nagito said. “None of my feelings from thirty years ago matter. As long as you love me, nothing else will ever matter to me again.”

Hajime grabbed Nagito’s arms, but neither pulled him closer or pushed him away. “...How do I know that isn’t a lie, too?”

“You love me, don’t you? Regardless of whether I intended it or not, I’ve made you mine. I’d do _anything_ for you, Hajime, even destroy my own body! I love you, Hajime. That’s… all I’ve ever wanted to be able to say to someone, without experiencing the negative repercussions that have plagued my life.”

“I… don’t know what to think right now,” Hajime said quietly. “I’m getting the questions I had answered, but… Why did you agree to such an insane plan?”

“For the same reason Izuru agreed to one of her plans. It was the marvelous truth we wanted both to believe. But these circumstances are just stepping stones toward a greater hope, aren’t they? The things that you and Naegi will achieve together will be amazing, I just know it!”

Naegi finally interjected. “Regardless of Nagito’s motivation, I think there’s something really important that we’re ignoring, isn’t there?” he said, sounding nervous. “And that’s Junko Enoshima, right? The _real_ Junko Enoshima.”

“This… This is about pizzeria animatronics, isn’t it?” Chiaki asked. All eyes turned to her. “There’s… um, a new pizzeria opening up across the street from the game store I work at. It’s kind of coincidental you wrote me that letter, Hajime, since I was just thinking about Monokuma’s Pizza because of it.”

Hajime narrowed his eyes. “...Why? What’s special about it?”

“W-Well… They’ve got some pretty… i-interesting mascots...”

“Take us there.”

* * *

 

It was a long, nerve wracking train ride to the city Nanami lived. By the time they reached her place of work, the sun had dipped its toes into the horizon. Makoto wasn’t sure how Nagito and Hinata usually traveled, but he got the impression it wasn’t using public transit during the day. Although an animatronic body didn’t translate nervousness the same way a human’s would, if his blank stare and stiff movements were anything to go by, Hinata was petrified. Getting on and off the train were the worst; Nagito had to forcibly push him into the sea of people. More than anything, Makoto wanted to ask if Hinata was alright, as he’d seemed pretty upset before they even left Monokuma’s, but he kept his mouth shut. Regardless of anybody’s feelings on the matter, they just couldn’t afford to leave Nagito behind.

And now they stood on an unfamiliar street in an unfamiliar town, staring up at the unfamiliar neon sign for _Monaca Towa’s Pizzeria._

“Th-This is it,” Nanami said. “This is the place.”

Makoto stepped up to the building, eyeing the posters. There were five, each one of a different child. Masaru Diamon, a scruffy-looking redhead, Kotoko Utsugi, an adorable blonde girl, Jataro Kemuri, a rather frightening masked child, Nagisa Shingetsu, a snobby blue-haired boy, and Monaca Towa, a little girl in a wheelchair.

All of them were animatronics.

He glanced at Nagito, who had stepped up beside him. “...Well? What do you think?”

“Myself, Izuru, and the Junko animatronic were all experiments,” Nagito replied. “We were all probably meant to be destroyed at some point, but the murders and the fire caused unforeseeable issues. She’s seen enough to be able to perfect the art of creating a living animatronic. Monokuma’s Pizza was a trial run. This place is the real deal.”

Makoto swallowed thickly. Full-sized animatronics were bad enough, but if what Nagito was insinuating about how these child animatronics were created, then…

“You want to know what I think, Naegi?” The strange light was back in Nagito’s eyes, making them dance in excitement. “I think we’re in an insurmountable amount of trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S IT. THAT'S THE END. :D
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's taken the chance of joining me on this adventure! It was an experiment for me more than anything. I've never written anything in this genre (or written a novella-length piece), so this was quite the experience. I look forward to some better night's sleep after this :"D I worked really hard to maintain both the integrity of the Danganronpa characters, as well as the spirit of Five Night's at Freddy's. But it wandered off in its own direction, too, which I think is sort of interesting. I know I'm literally ending this on a cliffhanger, but maaaybe a sequel~? 
> 
> Again thank you for reading, and although I don't celebrate it myself, Happy Halloween!


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